


The Problem With Being a Fertile

by nadie2



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, Omega Verse, Teenlock, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 70,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28182075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadie2/pseuds/nadie2
Summary: A teenage John Watson is rescued from the omegahouse by Sherlock Holmes. John Watson now has to begin the education his gender denied him.Sherlock feels himself falling for John, but struggles with how he can love the omega when he is asexual.Meanwhile trans Mycroft (omega to beta omega-beta) struggles with the concept that he might have feelings for an alpha-beta despite his gender (in this world all betas are supposedly asexual). That alpha-beta Greg, welcomes Mycroft into his family (full of nieces and nephews) as the two of them explore their sexuality together.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Serious about those tags. This story starts off with the rape of a teenager.  
> Also, I don't think this story is very good. My beta passed on reading it actually. And then I did all the work to edit it and decided VERY late that it was absolute nonsense, and should never be published. But...I'd put the work in, so I'm going to do it.  
> However, I won't feel bad if you don't read it! the next story I plan on publishing is a sequel to Grief which I will begin editing soon!

John's focus  drifts for a single moment, and because of that he realized where he was. There was an alpha thrusting between his legs, "Soon you're going to be wet," the alpha hisses, "dripping for me. And then I'm going to fill you. Don't you worry. I'm going to fill you up so completely that you are never going to want or need anyone else."

"I'm never going to drip for  arse holes like you," the teenager says trying to pull away from the alpha. He's tied to the bed, and the alpha is pressed against his back so he knows that struggling is not going to exactly be effective, but he can't keep himself from trying.

"Oh, the little omega is wiggling for me. Begging for me. Wiggle that little  arse , please, little omega," the alpha says.

John bites back his tears, because God damn it, he's not going to give these  arse holes the satisfaction.

"I got to enjoy you while I can, because as soon as you go into heat your fine  arse is going to be priced way too high for me."

John ignores the taunt, and tries to go to his happy place, but it's not like he has a whole lot of those to choose from. His childhood was far from happy even before his alpha mother sold him to the omega house. There was a park though where he used to take his siblings. They had had good times there, out of the reach of his abusive parents for a couple of hours. He focuses on that, and tries really hard not to think about the fact that he might have to spend the rest of his life focused on the few hours of this life that haven't sucked so far.

-0-

"I'm of age," Sherlock says with annoyance. He isn't, and he really doesn't look like it either. Sherlock is  actually fifteen years old, but he looks more like thirteen. His high cheekbones and thin figure make him look more like an omega than a  filled out alpha. He still has the voice of a child, and his smell has a touch of leather in it, but it is still the scent of a childish alpha.

The bouncer sniffs the air, "I don't care what this ID says, there is no way you've reached maturity."

Sherlock sighs, he had hoped he could avoid being  cr ass , "No, and I'm never going to if my family keeps sheltering me. But if you let me get in there, and get some nice omega  arse I might actually have a chance at getting my rocks off."

The bouncer smiles, "All right, but trust me when I say you aren't ready to ride a ripe one. I'll give you something with some training wheels, something that is a whole lot more your size."

Sherlock is glad he's practiced with fake emotions for as long as he has, because otherwise there is no way he could fake enthusiasm at the man's words.

He's let into a room where he sees an omega who is in fact close to his own age tied to a bed. The boy has bloodied his hands by struggling against the rope, and not in some blind brute force kind of way, but in a focused clever one which would probably have some results if the knots were not quite so skillfully made. The people of the omega house knew what they were about.

The boy is naked, and the flesh is chafed around his  arse , and thighs, but the bastards haven't even bothered to touch his penis. Sherlock knows he shouldn't be surprised about the fact that the alphas who frequent this place are not exactly interested in the omega's pleasure, but he still finds it  really offensive .

The boy is a bit smaller than he is, and is no more developed than Sherlock, but Sherlock can already tell he's going to be a rather handsome omega.

"Omega," Sherlock says bending down next to him. The other boy doesn't respond even though Sherlock can see he's conscious. Sherlock unties his limbs one by one, and the omega doesn't move  until he does the last one.

Then he punches Sherlock in the head. "Stop, I'm here to help you!" Sherlock exclaims.

"Right, help send me into heat so the house can get a higher price per hour!" John says.

"No! I need to get a record of an omega on tape saying that he doesn't want to be in the omega house before I can shut this place down," Sherlock says holding up the tape recorder.

"If I did that they would kill me," John says.

"I'm not leaving without you," Sherlock says.

John snorts, "I don't think that's possible."

"I work with the police," Sherlock says.

John snorts, "You're a child," and then he sniffs the air, "And an alpha. I know perfectly well that they don't allow fertiles, even alphas, to have jobs."

Sherlock sighs, "Okay, so I don't exactly work for the police. But I have got one on speed dial. He has a habit of getting me out of scrapes, and I sent him a message explaining my plan right before I came."

"It's a stupid plan," John says narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

"It is, but stupider plans have worked before," Sherlock says.

"You're a hundred percent sure that he's going to come to your rescue?" John asks.

Sherlock nods.

John pushes the bed in front of the door, "I thought it was stupid to have these doors open from the inside."

"This raid is going to be for nothing if I don't get you on record," Sherlock says holding the tape recorder up.

"Right, my fucking parents sold me, and no one asked me if I want to be here. They have subjected me to ridiculous amounts of sexual  ass ault . I have begged them to stop, and they haven't," John says into the tape recorder before reaching over to flick it off.

"Thank you," Sherlock says seriously. Sherlock finds himself unable to look the other boy in the face, "I'm sorry this has happened to you."

"Thank you for coming in here, and trying to end this shit," John says.

Sherlock nods, "How long...how long have you been here for?" he asks carefully.

"A short enough time that I'm not going to go into heat before the cops get here,  ass uming they are coming," John says.

"That's not why I asked," Sherlock says.

John closes his eyes, "My mental health is not your concern."

"Please," Sherlock says softly.

"I don't want to talk about this with an innocent child. If the police need details of what these bastards did to me, I'll give it to them then," John says. 

Sherlock nods pulling a spare pair of pants and trousers out of an inner pocket of his coat. "I almost forgot about these."

John looks at him shocked at how considerate this stranger who is rescuing him is.

"It's okay, they are clean," Sherlock encourages.

John puts them on, and then asks the question that has been praying on his mind for a while now, "Why would you do this for me?"

"Omega houses like this are against the law," Sherlock says as if this were the whole explanation.

"But why are you here?" John asks again his confusion not having abated in the least.

"It was more interesting than school," Sherlock says confused by this particular line of questioning.

John wrinkles his nose not knowing what school was, but not being willing to  embarr ass himself by asking. John puts the clothes on quickly. John tries to figure out what kind of small talk to make to someone who has saved you from sexual slavery, but he comes up empty. He is saved by the sound of an angry man shouting Sherlock's name.

"I'm in here Lestrade," Sherlock calls back pushing the bed out of the way.

"Sherlock bloody Holmes, of all the scrapes I've had to rescue you from over the years I never thought I was going to have to pull you out of a fucking omega house! Your brother is going to have your hide! Jesus, have you even presented? You're a child!" the police officer rants. His alpha-beta scent, like a leather sofa covered in flowers, puts John on edge, even though he can already tell that there is safety to be found in him.

"Lestrade, please, I was here on a case," Sherlock says, "See, everyone's dressed," he waves his hands about the room, and John is relieved that it is true. "In case you've forgotten," Sherlock says in annoyance, "Omega houses are illegal."

"Oh Sherlock, perhaps you were trying to do something kind here, but I don't think you quite understand how these things work...." Lestrade says looking at him with pity.

"I've got a tape of this one saying it was involuntary," Sherlock grins.

"And I'm willing to testify if you can get me out of here," John says his stomach sinking at just how stupid this plan is. He tries for a second to be afraid of what would happen to him if this doesn't work, and he is left here, but he can't quite muster up the fear, because he can't actually imagine something that is worse than what has already happened to him.

"I  ass ume you are under aged?" Greg asks.

"And unrepresented," John adds.

Greg grinds his teeth at that, "Yeah, that's definitely enough to get you out of here, come with me, boys," he says moving forward, and wrapping his arm around them.

"Hey, we do not allow people to take whores off the premises!" a huge alpha says in alarm.

"This one is under aged, and I'm a cop," Lestrade says taking his arm off Sherlock for a moment to flash his badge.

"Hey, he might look young, but he's of age. We run a lawful VOLUNTARY hotel here. You know how hard it is for omegas to get a place to stay. We give them shelter," the alpha says taking a step back.

"Downright charitable," Greg says with sarcasm thick in his voice, "I'm surprised any of them would want to have sex at all."

"Well, you know how omegas are. They all sluts with no self control. They let someone pork them once, and they are gagging for it forever. Surely you can't expect us to control the sexuality of omegas," the alpha continues.

"It would be a lot better for everyone involved if you didn't try to control the sexuality of omegas, actually," Greg says putting his arms around the boys again, as he picks up the pace that they are walking at.

Sherlock  breathes a sigh of relief when they get into the relative safety of a cop car, but John goes into hysterics. "What is he doing?" Sherlock asks Greg in alarm.

"Don't touch him  Sherlock but try talking to him."

"Omega," Sherlock says snapping his hand in front of his face.

" Oh, for God's sake, talk to him gently!" Greg shouts from the front seat.

"We're safe now," Sherlock coos, "It's going to be okay. We've got you now. What's your name?"

"John," he says gasping a bit.

"Okay, John," Sherlock says soothingly. "Tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing," John says calm enough now to be  embarr ass ed . He brings his knees up before his face. 

"For a long time you couldn't melt down, right?" Greg asks softly from the front seat, "You had to be strong all the time didn't you? That's over now. You are safe, and the grown-ups are going to be the grown-ups."

"Unless they retaliate," John says in a flat voice.

"I wouldn't have walked you out of there, kid, if I didn't have plans of protecting you," Lestrade says.

"I'll protect you too," Sherlock says.

This earns a snort from John. "No offense, but I trust the police officer to protect me a bit more than the teenager," John says.

"Can I take him home with me?" Sherlock asks Greg.

"Jesus, I'm not a fucking puppy," John says crossing his arms.

"I don't know if that is the most appropriate place for him, Sherlock," Greg says glancing in the rear view mirror, "There are plenty of people who could take him that don't have any teenage alphas at home."

" Arse es come in all genders. If you don't think there were omegas and betas making that house work you are nuts," John says, "And if Sherlock was going to  ass ault me he would have when he walked into the room where I was tied down, and naked. Instead, he brought me pants."

Greg smiles at that, "True enough, but Sherlock, your parents already have fourteen children to worry about, don't you think you should talk to them before you go around adding to the number?"

"Please," Sherlock says with an eye roll, "Five of them have houses of their own, and another four are away at school. There are more kids at home at your house Greg."

"You've got kids at your house?" John says with a slightly scandalized tone which seems to imply that he thinks the beta might have  stolen the children from somewhere.

"I live with my omega sister and her family," Greg admits, "And we've got the same number of kids as your family does at home. Your mum still has to worry about all of her children, even if they don't rest their heads under her roof each night."

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "I'll ask her, but I know what she'll say."

Greg isn't so sure about that. He might have gotten a slightly inaccurate picture of Mrs. Holmes from his dealings with Sherlock. The first time that Greg had caught Sherlock breaking the law,  tresp ass ing , Sherlock had begged to be taken to his brother instead of his parents. Mycroft had scowled and punished in what seamed to the other man such a fair way that he'd continued to bring him his wayward brother whenever he was caught by anyone on the police force in a bit of mischief (the rest of the police force was always more than happy to yield the care of Sherlock to Greg).

Greg sighs, "Well, I wouldn't be surprised if your brother took him in if your mum said no, but did you ever consider the fact that John might have his own ideas about where he wants to go?"

John's cheeks turn red with the comment, and he can't find words to say, but Sherlock makes his words unnecessary, "I thought the fact that his family sent him to that God awful place would more or less eliminate the need in his mind to pay them any sort of homage."

Greg's eyes met the older boy's in the mirror, and his face turns grim at John's one sad nod. "Well" Greg says, "If the Holmes's place doesn't work out for any reason I'm offering up my place, and of course you can always go through official channels as well."

"I've very good at looking after children," John says bashfully, "Wherever I go I'll make myself useful."

Greg growls in a way that sounds far more alpha than beta-alpha, "We're going to make sure you go to the sort of place where you are not required to be useful."

Suddenly Sherlock starts as if remembering something, "I've got to call Mycroft."

"That's a good idea," Greg says. "Have him pick you up at the police station."

"Right," Sherlock says in his rather typical, "Isn't that man dull?" voice.

-0-

Mycroft Holmes only owned one mirror. He'd tried for many years to go without one at all, but there had been a few too many incidences of shaving cream left on his face, or hairs that were arranged in a very unbecoming manner. He had decided years ago that he simply must look at himself before he left the house in the morning, even if the image which greeted his eyes was never going to look like what he thought he ought to look like.

He is sneering into the mirror, and doesn't bother to calm his face down, but just does a quick check before looking away. His face has gotten sharper and more beta like over the years, but it still had far too much of the round omega look in it for his taste. His belly is round, and his shoulder's not as broad as he wanted them to be. When others looked at him, helped along by his heavy artificial beta musk, they believed that he was a beta-omega. When he looked at himself he saw nothing more than the omega body he'd been born into.

He takes his phone out of his pocket when he hears the alarming ring tone that he has reserved for his brother Sherlock. "I'll be there to pick you up soon," he says with a sigh, "Please do be patient, and I'll get you to school long before it begins." In his experience his brother was always either woefully late for school, or annoyingly early. There really was no in between with the boy.

"I'm not going to school today," Sherlock replies.

"Don't be tedious, Sherlock, we've had this fight enough times to know how it ends," Mycroft says.

"Mycroft there is a house of omegas," he quickly gave Mycroft the address, "I've got good information they had unwilling under aged omegas that they bought from their family."

"Call the police, what am I supposed to do about it?" Mycroft asks.

"I have called the police, and Lestrade is on the way to the police station right now with our source," John puffs himself up a bit at being called a source, "I thought the super secret spy group you are a part of might want to take them out. It should be short work for people of your skill set, actually."

Mycroft sighs, "Just because you deduced something instead of being told it outright doesn't  mean that you can go blubbering it to everyone. That's  top secret information, and I could have you charged just for saying it."

"But you won't," Sherlock says cheerfully.

Mycroft sighs, because he knows his brother is right. "I won't make any promises, Sherlock, you keep  pushing it through the police, but I'll see what I can do."

Sherlock grins, loving the fact that he had his big brother wrapped around his little finger.

"And Sherlock," Mycroft says before hanging up, "You are going to be going to school, just as soon as we get all of this sorted."

Maybe his big brother wasn't quite as wrapped as Sherlock would have liked him to be.

Lestrade chuckles, "You are lucky to have that brother of yours."

Sherlock crosses his arms in surly disagreement.

John wonders if he should be grateful that he's never had to go to this thing called school, it sounds rather awful. 

Greg misunderstands his reaction, and says, "Don't worry, John, we'll get you back to school, and a normal life before you know it."


	2. Chapter 2

Mycroft's face is soft, and warm when he comes to get Sherlock. Sherlock hates when his brother's face gets sentimental. "Are you all right, Sherlock?"

" Yes, wasn't the one being sexual assaulted for money," Sherlock says unemotionally.

"Just to be clear, brother mine, you weren't the one doing the sexual assault, were you?" Mycroft asks putting on his stern face, which Sherlock much prefers to the sentimental one. That is why he so frequently annoys his brother to get that face to pop up.

"No," John says staring at the older man. He's clearly a beta omega. The thin bald omega tail, the clothing choices, and the smell all  proclaim the fact. But there is something lingering under the bland bread and butter scent of beta-omega that has just a hint of the flower of omega and gives off a sensation not unlike pastry. It's pleasant, and makes John trust him, even though nothing in the other man's body language or appearance would make him do it. "Sherlock was kind and proper with me."

"Good," Mycroft says as if he noticed the boy for the first time. "You're all right then? Someone has been called to look after you?"

"He doesn't have anyone, Mycroft," Sherlock says.

"Oh, Sherlock, I know you've been disappointed that we couldn't have a dog, but that doesn't mean you can just pick up a human!' Mycroft scolds.

"I want to go with him," John says quietly, feeling like his own desires are nothing in the face of this powerful man.

"What about your own family?" Mycroft asks.

"They sold me, and. .. things were not great before that," John says looking the man in the eyes with honesty.

"All right," Mycroft says with decision, "You'll come live with me."

"I appreciate that, I do, but I want to live with Sherlock," John says.

"That wouldn't be appropriate," Mycroft insists.

"It would be fine if we were betrothed," Sherlock says.

"Baby brother," Mycroft says with exasperation, "You can't marry someone on a whim."

"I'm not saying that I'll marry him. It's not as if we'd be the first couple to live together in engaged bliss for a while before breaking up," Sherlock says.

"That is definitely not helping your case," Mycroft says, "This child has been through trauma, and I will not have my own blood adding to it."

"Ew!" Sherlock exclaims, "I want to be his friend not his lover. I don't want a lover."

"That is good brother mine, when you are still fifteen, and in high school. But you might change your answer later  on and might do something you regret with this young man..." Mycroft says.

"I think I have more  self-control than that, Mycroft, come on, give me a little credit."

"Fine, let's assume everything goes as planned. You develop some sort of a friendship," Mycroft  spits the word friend as if it were a swear word, "With this young man, and the two of you both retain that throughout your hormone ridden youth. Such things have been heard of. Well then someday this young omega is going to want to mate with someone. His chances of mating are going to be somewhat restricted by the fact that he's lived with an alpha."

John snorts.

Mycroft turns to him with annoyance evident in his face, "You might not think this is of importance now, but I assure you that it is critical..."

"Oh shut up, I'm already damaged goods. I woke up this morning in a fucking omega house with a stranger's knot fucking rubbing against my ass. My prospects are not going to be fucking hurt by bunking down with a friend. And if they are? What of it? It's not like I want to marry the sorts of people who are going to reject me, because I lived my life," John says.

Mycroft's face twitches uncomfortably, "We'll ask Mummy. Now are both of you cleared with doctors, and police?" he says looking at Lestrade.

"They are good, Mr. Holmes, I really appreciate the fact that you came down, to pick up your brother. You are so good with your baby brother," Lestrade practically purrs.

"Yes, thank you, any paperwork to sign?" Mycroft asks oblivious to the flirting. He was a beta, and betas were supposed to be dead to that terrible illness called romance, so he suppressed whatever part of him could see the things that his gender was not supposed to see. 

"No, everything has been sorted." Greg looks at the man before him wondering if Sherlock had just been teasing his brother on the phone when he'd accused him of being a spy. He hadn’t heard a scold on the other end of the phone that would have confirmed it. "Don't worry, we'll catch the people responsible for that."

Mycroft clears his throat sounding embarrassed, "That won't be necessary. I'm afraid these particular villains will be tried in a military court."

"Oh?" Greg says, "I would really hate to ever get on your bad side."

"I don't think there is much fear of that. I always appreciate you looking  out for my little brother," Mycroft says.

Greg smiles at him.

"Enough with your flirting," Sherlock says in exasperation, "Can we go?"

Mycroft shoots him an angry look. "Yes, let's go."

John isn't sure why Mycroft's body is rigid with fury right now, and more importantly, he isn't sure what Mycroft is likely to do when he becomes furious. He hopes it won't be beatings. 

When they get in the car Mycroft hisses at his brother, "He wasn't flirting with me! Are you trying to out me? Honestly?"

"I wasn't outing you. If anything, I was outing him," Sherlock says.

"He was flirting with you," John puts in, even though he doesn't understand the whole conversation.

"Impossible. The good cop is a beta," Mycroft says.

"That happens you know, sometimes," John says.

"What?" Mycroft says in shock.

"I've got a big brother. He's a beta, but he likes to read..." John blushes, "He likes to read magazines aimed at alphas."

"I'm not aware that magazines are gender specific," Mycroft says.

"He means his brother looks at porn," Sherlock says bluntly.

"Oh," Mycroft says in surprise. "I didn't know..."

"I know he's not the only one," John continues, "I'm pretty sure he's dating someone, but it's not like he'll admit it to me. He's pretty stuck in this whole, 'I don't want to corrupt the little kids thing."

"It's not corruption," Sherlock says with an eye roll, "Sex is just like this one part of life, and when you make it forbidden it just makes people think it's way more important than it actually is. If people just treated it like it deserves it would cause no more distraction than...laundry."

John blinks at him, "You can't be serious? Comparing sex to a chore."

"Sure I can," Sherlock says.

"I think sex is a little more enjoyable for the people involved than laundry," John replies with a chuckle.

"Really, and what happened to you back there was enjoyable was it?" Sherlock asks.

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" Mycroft exclaims from the front seat, "You will NEVER speak like that again. Rape is not the same as sex."

Sherlock pouts, "I was just trying to point out that the action itself is not anything particularly special. The special connection people feel that's not the act itself, that's something people add onto it to make it better."

"When done voluntarily," John says through clenched teeth, "I understand that there is a pleasurable physical sensation that doesn't exactly come from doing the dishes."

Sherlock nods, "I suppose that's true. I am just annoyed when people act like  fertiles having sex is the whole point of life, even those that aren't  fertiles . On the other side there are so many people who act like betas are the most pure and holy, because they don't have sex."

"I totally agree," John says, "I think people should do sex when they want it, and not when they don't. Whether or not a baby comes out of it should be a secondary not primary concern."

"I think as the adult I should be doing something about this sexually liberal talk," Mycroft says.

"Or you can just take our progressive advice, and live your life to the fullest, brother dear," Sherlock says with his lips quirking up in slight mockery as he reaches the last words where he mimics his brother. Then he grows serious, "No one is going to think of you as less beta if you did choose to date the cop."

"Or anyone else," John says.

Mycroft shoots his brother a smile into the backseat. The truth  is Mycroft would have dated a long time ago if he hadn't worried that wanting to date would mean he was nothing more than an omega after  all of his effort to  actually become who he was. Well, that and the fact that he'd never assumed there  would be willing beta partners for him to choose from. Let alone that his very favorite beta might be an option.

-0-

"Oh, I'm so glad that you brought a friend, Sherlock," Mrs. Holmes says when the three of them enter the kitchen, "God knows you don't have enough of those. Perfect timing then, I've got some biscuits coming out of the oven in just a few minutes."

"Mom, he's not a friend," Sherlock says.

"Yeah, we are friends," John corrects.

"All right, he's not JUST a friend, we're betrothed," Sherlock declares proudly.

Mrs. Holmes looks from one to the other of them critically, "So you just met him today, and you're going to get married?"

Sherlock nods.

"Nonsense," she says narrowing her eyes, "Besides, you are much too young to get my approval for an engagement. You'd know that if you didn't plug your ears every time we tried to talk about sex or romance. Neither your father nor I will be signing any underage bonding agreements, and we'll do what you can to keep you apart.  So, you might as well tell me  what's really going on."

The teenagers are silent, so she turns her eyes to her older son. He is only able to avoid the scrutiny of her looks for a few seconds before he sighs, "Sherlock skipped school today in order to infiltrate am illegal omega sex house. I, and a police officer he's managed to befriend were able to rescue him and shut down the omega house. He brought home a survivor."

"Oh," Mrs. Holmes's eyes go soft. " Well, my dear, that does change some things, but it doesn't exactly make me more willing to go along with this fool engagement plan. You deserve to be in a place where you're not going to be pressured into having sex."

"I deserve a home, and a family," John says.

"True enough," Mrs. Holmes says squinting her eyes, "I can offer that to you only if you give up this plan of you too being in some kind of a relationship. You're too young, and John has some trauma to get over. You can live as brothers, or John can stay somewhere else, perhaps Mycroft's?"

"I would be happy to take him mother, but you know that I'm not home enough to give a teenager the kind of attention that he deserves," Mycroft says.

"Right then, so, are the two of you willing to act like brothers?" Mrs. Holmes asks.

"Yes," Sherlock says quickly. He needs to do what is best for John, and he knows that his house is better than all of John's other options.

"Right," John says trying hard not to feel like he's been kicked in the stomach by how quickly the other boy agreed to give him up. He knows that he shouldn’t be surprised though, after all, Sherlock did just describe sex as a chore.

"All right then," Mrs. Holmes says, "Mycroft go show John up to your room, and then come back down for cookies. In this family, John, each child at home shares a room with one of my little birdies who has flown the nest or who is away at school. That way everyone gets to have their own space most of the time."

"Thank you," John says seriously to her.

"No problem dearie. My house has begun to empty out in late years, and I can't say that I really care for it. Besides, I can see you're the sort who is going to be unbearably helpful even after I've told you to relax and be a child," she says fondly.

"You are right about that, ma'am," John says before following Mycroft up the stairs.

John tries to pretend that he isn't shocked by what he sees when Mycroft  opens up the door. His room at home, shared with four other children had no window, and no space. This room was lighted by two large bay windows with window seats with storage beneath. Between the windows two huge, ancient wooden desks, the sort more likely to be seen in the office of a sixty-year-old lawyer than children's bedrooms, face one another. Decretive room dividers sit on either side of the windows a few feet away. Behind each divider there is a queen bed immaculately made. A large wardrobe, and  bookshelf align each of the walls next to the bed with room to spare. In the middle of the room there is just lots of extra space. Plenty of extra space. More space than John can cope with.

"My side is on the right, but if you need more space please take it. I only stay here on holidays," Mycroft says.

"More space than this?" John squeaks. He blushes when he realizes his attempt at playing it cool has been well and truly blown out of the water.

Mycroft chuckles, "You're rich now, you might as well get used to it. I'm sure someone will take you shopping for things to fill up this room before long. I'm volunteering for the task as well."

"I don't need anything."

Mycroft sighs, "I'm guessing even if we took you back to your home you would not have a whole lot of clothes to claim." He surveys the borrowed trousers with derision.

"I don't need a bunch of clothes," John objects.

"Oh you do, and school uniforms as well," Mycroft says.

"You have to wear a special outfit for school?" John asks in surprise.

"You've never been to school before?" Mycroft asks with concern.

"Please don't tell Sherlock, I don't want him to think the less of me," John says fidgeting in his shame.

Mycroft snorts, "Trust me, Sherlock isn't going to think the less of you. You'll be his hero for finding a way to avoid it. He would love to never to have to go to school ever again. Don't you fall into his trap though. Schools are the way to freedom, especially for people like us. You don't get an education you have to trust people your whole life, rely on them. You get enough education, and you can take care of yourself. Look after yourself, and you never have to rely on anyone else."

"People like us?" John asks in confusion.

Mycroft pauses looking at the boy before him not having meant to let that little bit slip. "I think you'll have to be family for more than five minutes before I share that particular gem with you. Now then we need biscuits."

-0-

When they finish afternoon tea Sherlock says, "Mummy, I need your credit card."

"Dear, you have more than enough science experiments up in your room already. I feel sorry for poor Archie when he comes home from school on the holidays. I'm quite sure that whatever you have going on in that room is not sanitary," she says.

"It's not for that, John needs clothes," Sherlock says.

"No I don't! What is it with this family and trying to dress me?" John exclaims.

"You do need clothes, but if you'd rather go alone or with Mycroft or myself we can do that," Mrs. Holmes says.

"If I had to go with anyone I would prefer to go with Sherlock, but I honestly don't need anything."

Mrs. Holmes doesn't even address John, and takes out her credit card, holding it just out of Sherlock's reach as she gives him her instructions, "You buy him a full set of school uniforms for your school, as well as that bag that is so popular among the children," Sherlock starts to talk, but she shhs him with a flash of her eyes, "I know you don't care what your fellow students think of you, but the bag isn't going to be for you. Get him notebooks and pencils too, and some folders, most people do like to be organized you know. Then some clothes for not school-his style not yours, Sherlock Holmes. Don't forget the pajamas, and stay outside of the shop he gets his undergarmets in. I don't care how chase this relationship is, I will not have people looking down on you, because you can't follow basic rules of society."

"Yes, Mummy," Sherlock says.

Then Mrs. Holmes turns to John, "John, in this family we rat each other out when we don't follow Mummy's directions. You understand me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," John repeats.

"All right, and you're welcome to call me Mummy whenever you feel like it. Don't worry though. I'm not going to be holding my breath wishing you into it. If it never comes it's not going to make you any less of my family," Mrs. Holmes says warmly. 

"Enough sentiment, Mummy," Sherlock says quickly nabbing the card out of his mother's  hands and making a break for the door. Sherlock hails a cab. One stops instantly, and Sherlock opens the door, and holds onto it.

John stares at him confused.

"Right, you're not big on chivalry, got it," Sherlock says walking around John to enter the car, and scoot to the far side of the car. John sits on the near seat. He reaches for a seat belt, and when he doesn't find one he pretends to be scratching his shoulder blade. 

Sherlock narrows his eyes at him, "You okay John?"

"Yep," John says trying to sound as casual as he can.

"So, you've never been in a taxi before, have you shopped for clothes?" Sherlock says in a voice so gentle that John can't be angry at the boy for practically reading his mind.

"No, all the clothes I've ever owned were hand me downs," John admits.

"Even the pants?" Sherlock asks scrunching up his nose.

"We washed them, we're not animals," John says in offense.

"I don't care how many times pants they were washed, I would never wear another man's pants," Sherlock declares.

John secretly hopes he'll get the chance to make him eat those words someday. If he mates Sherlock Holmes, he is sure he could get him to wear his pants. John was old enough to know that an omegas whole life could be defined by who they got to claim them, bite them, breed them, and that omegas who waited too long to make that decision tended to have the decision made for them. Sherlock would be a good choice for a mate. He was kind, and honestly kind was a great deal more than John ever hoped for. Not to mention the fact that Sherlock possessed cheekbones that made John positively melt.

"Sorry," Sherlock says, "I've very rude, but I don't mean to be. It's not your fault that you are poor."

"You are way  richer than I am poor," John points out.

"Well, you're rich now too, then," Sherlock declares.

"You know we're not actually engaged, right?" John asks.

"That's not required to be a member of our family," Sherlock says.

John tries to hide his grin by looking out the window.

-0-

Mycroft feels like he is going to throw-up for certain. He walks up and down the sidewalk before the house several times before he rings the bell. Everything in him wants to retreat, but he is above such teenage antics. The door opens to reveal a young woman smelling sweetly of omega mother-like a nectarine.

"I'm sorry, clearly I am at the house of the wrong Lestrade," Mycroft says bashfully trying to make the break for it that his feet have wanted to do for several minutes now.

"If you are here for my brother Gregory you're not," she smiles.

"Oh, right," Mycroft says blushing. He wouldn't have come if he knew that Greg lived with his family, although he realizes too late that the house is really too big for a single person. It is bigger than Mycroft's spacious flat, and Greg has far less funds to waste on space than Mycroft does.

"Please come in, I'll get him," she says smiling, "I'm Diana by the way." A  seven-year-old is peeping around the door frame at him suspiciously, "Go get uncle, Madi," the woman commands.

"No," she says.

"Perfect," her mother says, "Then your turn to pick a TV channel will go to someone who doesn't tell their mother 'no'."

"Fine," Madi says stomping up every stair on her way.

"Sorry about that," Diana says.

"It's no problem. I have enough younger siblings that I can sympathize," Mycroft replies.

Diana chuckles at that, "Oldest in your family, are you? Madi declares being the oldest is the  worst thing that can happen to a person."

"I'm fifth actually, but my parents have fourteen in all, and I didn't go away to school like many of the older ones did," Mycroft explains.

Greg comes down the stairs just then, and when he sees Mycroft his face is covered with worry. Mycroft's stomach drops. Why did he come here? Why did he believe a bunch of children when they said that this man had a crush on him? He should have known better.

"Mycroft, is Sherlock okay?" At Mycroft's mute nod he presses forth, "That omega? John, he's okay too? He's got a place to stay right?"

"Yes, he's with my parents," Mycroft agrees.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Greg asks now standing right in front of Mycroft, dangerously close to Mycroft if the pounding of his heart is anything to go by. Dianna has disappeared from the entry way, although the spy in Mycroft can't help but wonder if she hasn't stayed close enough to be within ear shot.

"Nothing, I'm sorry to bother you," Mycroft says trying now to flee the house.

Greg catches him by the  elbow and waits patiently until he turns toward him before he says softly, "I think I've been misreading what was going on here. It's okay if you're not here, because something is wrong. In fact, it would be very good if you were here, and nothing was wrong," and then he smiles in a way that Mycroft is pretty sure the teenagers would call flirting.

"I might have misread things," Mycroft stammers.

"I think I'm the one who has been doing the misreading," Greg corrects lightly.

"I thought you might be the sort of person who... socialized," he says awkwardly.

"I am," Greg says, "Let's go socialize right now."

"Okay," Mycroft says awkwardly, "I. .. I have a car waiting."

They head out the door to see the town car "You've got a fancy car waiting," Greg playfully corrects.

"I'm sorry if..." Mycroft begins, but Greg breaks in, "Stop apologizing. I'm excited for this." Mycroft slides into the seat first, and Greg slides in after him sitting just a bit closer than was strictly necessary.

"Jesus, you smell nice, Mycroft," Greg says quiet enough that Mycroft's driver won't be able to hear it.

"Oh," Mycroft says scooting a bit more toward the window.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you," Greg says.

"What do I smell like?" Mycroft asks. It's common for people to tell each other what they smelled like, but no one had ever really done this for Mycroft. Most of the people in his life would have known he was sensitive, and wouldn't have risked offending him, but Mycroft really wanted to face  the truth

"Sweet," Greg says closing his eyes.

"Like an Omega?"  Mycroft asks with concern.

"No, like a pastry shop," Greg says.

"Really?" Mycroft says taking a large breath in relief.

"Yeah, it's making my mouth water," Greg says with enough eye contact that Mycroft looks away blushing. Then Mycroft looks in his direction and extends his wrist. Greg scents the wrist intensely, and then he flips it over to the other side to kiss it.

Greg's  pheromones are faint fresh earth outdoor smell that has very little of the potent leather of alpha in it. When he kisses Greg's wrist in return a new smell almost overwhelmed the car. It's not quite the bitter tinge of arousal, but something deeper, richer and more heartfelt that Mycroft is afraid to name.

Mycroft isn't exactly sure what his own hormones are saying in return, but he can guess by Greg's face that it is not by any means a bad thing.

The car stops before a restaurant, "I almost wish I'd picked one farther away," Mycroft whispers.

"We could just go for a drive," Greg suggests.

"After," Mycroft promises.

-0-

Hours later when they are full of fine wine and good food that promise is kept. Mycroft is tucked under Greg's arm, and there is no pretense that they are diving around to see the sights as the windows are still  darkened and rolled up. The conversation flows easily. They talk about Greg's nieces and nephews, and about Mycroft's siblings, mostly Sherlock.

"It's great that you have such a connection to him," Greg says.

"Well, I owe him that at least," Mycroft says.

"Why?" Greg asks.

Mycroft pulls away from his spot under the other man's arm to look at him in surprise. Mycroft was never  really sure if he was passing as a beta. He sometimes worried that people were just too polite to let him know that they knew what he really was. He thought he had disguised himself only well enough that people would be willing to pretend, just because that's what they knew he wanted, but not enough to really keep the truth from people. He certainly hadn't assumed that tonight, with his beta musk half washed off (as much as he could stand) and with all the flirting and the sort of closeness he never allowed from others who were not in on the secret that Gregory would still be in the dark.

He owed Sherlock everything, because Mycroft had been born the oldest fertile, and when he'd  transitioned, he'd left his younger brother to the role.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" Greg asks softly.

"Nothing," Mycroft smiles at him, "There are just some things that happened when I was a kid that mean I owe Sherlock something."

"Okay," Greg says smiling, and accepting the fact that he does not want to share anymore.

"I should probably drop you off," Mycroft says.

"Right," Greg says looking abashed, and wishing that he knew what he had done wrong.

"We should do this again," Mycroft says with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Okay," Greg says a little uncertainly. Mycroft wants to slip himself back under Greg’s arm but is now insecure about the strength of his artificial beta scent. He slides a knee over which he allows just barely to  make contact with the other man's instead.


	3. Chapter 3

John frowns at himself in the mirror. His new school uniform feels like a costume, and he's sure that everyone at Sherlock's school is going to be able to see through  it and know that he doesn't really belong there. 

Sherlock opens the door without knocking, "It's time to go."

"You should knock first," John admonishes him in shock, "I might not have had my clothes on yet."

"It wouldn't have been the first time that I saw you naked," Sherlock says unaffected by his words.

"Yes, well let's try to prevent it in the future," John says.

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "It's fine, you had  your clothes on, stop making such a big deal out of it. Mycroft is going to be here any moment to drive us to school," Sherlock says.

"Right," John says trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he grabs the book bag full of all the supplies that Sherlock had helped him purchase the day before.

Mrs. Holmes is waiting for them when they come down the stairs, "I'm not foolish enough to try to get you to eat dear," she says to her son, "But there is hope for John still," she says holding out a muffin and a banana.

"Thank you, ma'am," he says taking the food.

"Good luck dear," she says scenting her son, and then holding herself open to John. He doesn't move forward for the scenting, and Mrs. Holmes doesn't say another word about it.

The honking of a car in the driveway causes the two teenagers to rush out the door

-0-

The school secretary had taken pity on John's obvious  terror and had enrolled him in all the same classes as Sherlock. The first class of the day was P.E. which had the slight inconvenience of John having to change in a room with other omegas, but which otherwise John loved. John had exceeded all the other omegas, and some of the alphas in his ability to run, and do push-ups, and even though he didn't know the rules of the football game he enjoys a good game

The next period was history. John  understands most of the words that are said, but he  isn't able to follow the gist of the lecture. He is also unnerved at the way that everyone in the room, including the teacher, keeps looking at an item called a book which is filled with papers to thin for John to easily turn them. Each of the pages are covered with symbols which appear in small groups and line after line. John glances down at the book in front of him from time to time hoping that no one knows that he doesn't know why everyone is doing that.

At the end of the period the teacher writes something called homework on the board, and everyone takes up a thin stick, and begins to make the symbols on their own paper. John is shocked that Sherlock knows how to make the marks as well. John grabs onto his stick, and moves his hand over the paper, not touching the paper, but hoping that it is enough to convince other people that he knows what is going on. Sherlock looks at him a few times during the process, and John is more than a little worried that he has not fooled his new friend.

The next class is called math, and the discussion is not any easier than the other classes have been, but it does have the huge benefit of having much fewer symbols. John catches the name of a few of them, and between absorbing the new symbols he slowly traces the lines out on his desk or his leg with his finger so that he can memorize the shape and order that the lines make. He learns "=" "x" "3" "2" and tries not to get too discouraged by the fact that he has no idea what to do with the line sometimes drawn between two numbers, which changes  all of the familiar numbers into things that are less familiar.

He notices Sherlock looking at him carefully several times during the class, but he hopes that if he ignores Sherlock his friend will be unwilling to mention it to him.

He has no such luck as it turns out. As soon as they leave that room Sherlock turns to them saying, "It's lunch time now. I think we should go home."

"Is that what you usually do?" John asks.

"No," Sherlock says, and with no more explanation than that he walks with deliberation out of the school. John rushes to follow his long strides. John figures Sherlock is going to tell him what is going on when they get into the taxi, but they sit in silence for the whole ride. Mrs. Holmes greets them at the door, "And what, dear boy, do you think you are doing home? I did send you with lunch for both of you."

"I know mom, but I think we overestimated John's readiness for school," Sherlock says.

John's face turns red and goes even more red at the kind sympathetic look that Mrs. Holmes gives him.

"It was fine," he insists, unwilling to look at either of them.

"He can't read or write mom, and he made an impressive attempt at memorizing numbers, but I'm pretty sure that he thinks "x" is a number."

John's cheeks go a deeper shade of red, because he had in fact thought that.

"Oh dear, why didn't you tell us before we sent you off to school?" Mrs. Holmes asks.

"I didn't know what school was," John admits, "But I thought that I would be able to fake whatever it is."

"Oh honey," Mrs. Holmes says sadly. "It's my fault really. I've acted like the whole world has gone modern, even though I know that really only a tiny portion of the world has. After all my own child was the first omega to be allowed in that school, and only because he kicked up a fuss." 

John looks at her in confusion, "You've got another fertile child? I thought it was just Sherlock, and Emma."

Mrs. Holmes shoots Sherlock a quick glance which can be interpreted in no other way than hushing her son, "I used to have an omega son yes."

"Oh, I'm sorry," John says. He's unwilling to ask any more questions even though he didn't think the government make you replace a fertile that you lost to death. They wouldn't have needed to keep having the  last two babies if Sherlock had an older omega brother. 

"None the less. I know that not all omegas get educated. I myself only got through third grade although I've learned more since leaving school than I did in it. But you don't even have the basics of reading?" she asks.

"I don't even know what that means," John says trying hard to swallow down the shame which is growing inside of his heart.

Sherlock grabs a book from the living room shelf, and holds it up before John, "These squiggles make words. He reads a few of the words for his friend which causes John's mouth to drop open in shock. "But how do you know? There are so many of them."

"Twenty-six in all, and most of them make the same sounds every time they show up, although there are a lot of exceptions to that rule. It takes most people a long time to learn. They start when they are five or six usually."

"Well, it's way too late for me now," John says dismally.

"No, it's not, but high school is probably not the best place to learn. Maybe he should go to a school for adult omegas," Sherlock suggests to his mother.

John blushes hard, "I don't think I want to go anywhere where they are going to know that I should have learned these things long time ago, and I didn't."

"But everyone at the school for adult omegas would be in the same situation as you," Sherlock argues not understanding John's objection.

"It's fine," Mrs. Holmes says softly, "You can stay home from now on, and I'll teach you until you're confident enough or ready to go onto to another school."

"You have enough to do in a day. I wouldn't think of adding onto it," John objects.

"Oh please, I've got all but one of my babies in school. I have never had less to do in my whole life," Mrs. Holmes tuts.

"I know, but you deserve this rest. You've worked your whole adult life to get to that point."

"Hogwash. I miss my babies, and I want them back," Mrs. Holmes corrects. "Now please. It would be my delight to teach you."

"All right, but only if I can do something in exchange," John says. "I might miss taking care of my younger siblings almost as much as you miss having little  one's home for you to teach."

Mrs. Holmes smiles at that, "Quite right. You do a bit of  childcare with them at night in exchange for me giving you lessons in basic schooling during the day."

"I want to help too," Sherlock says in a pout.

"I don't know, son," Mrs. Holmes says. "You aren't exactly known for your patience."

"It will be different when it's John," Sherlock objects.

Mrs. Holmes looks at John for permission before she sighs, "All right then dear. You can give John some lessons now and again," She turns to John then, "But you tell me if he gets rude, and doesn't behave himself," she instructs the other boy.

He nods his head, but they both know that he's lying about it. "Now Sherlock, you'd better go back to school."

"John needs me," he tries, but his mother's glare silences him, and he turns to leave.

"X isn't a number?" John asks her.

"No, it's a letter that can be used to mean any number. The job in algebra is to figure out what number it stands for in each problem, but that's not where we start. Do you count dear?" she asks.

At John's head shake she takes some spoons out of the drawer. She puts two of them together saying, "two" and then adds a few more counting each of them until she gets to "five". Those numbers you were seeing at Sherlock's school today they mean amounts of things. Once you learn what the numbers mean you can start to combine them in all kinds of different ways to do the basic operations."

"Thanks for doing this for me," John says sincerely.

-0-

Mycroft had debated not going on a second date with Gregory. It would have ensured that his secret was kept secret at least, but it also would have been an abandoning of the best thing that had ever happened to him. He had felt so much during that one dinner and drive with the other man. All the things he had waited to feel during the months he was courting when he was a teenager. He'd believed back then that if he could only make himself fall in love with one of the alphas he was courting everything would be all right. He would feel like he belonged in his own skin. He would get married, and then he would feel like he belonged in his life.

But he'd felt nothing for them no matter how hard he'd  tried, and wished. Somewhere along the line he'd simply decided that attraction was not going to happen for him, that this was one of the things that was  more or less broken deep inside of him.

The idea that the problem was that he'd only ever dated alphas had never occurred to him, because the idea of being attracted to anything besides an alpha was so forbidden it would not even enter his mind, even when the more forbidden idea that he had not been born in the correct body had begun to enter his mind.

Now the thought of giving up the love he felt for the other man felt just as unbearable as kissing had felt all those years ago.

It was even more unbearable than being outed to someone that he cares about. He has made the decision that he's going to continue dating Lestrade, even at the intense risk. If he's found out he'll deal with whatever comes of that, even if it means that Gregory is horrified and rejects him outright. If he can keep the secret,  then it's even more the better.

So, he gives Gregory a  call, and finds the other man quite excited and willing to go on a date.

"When?" Mycroft had asked.

"Tonight," Gregory responded eagerly. Mycroft can't help but to agree with that timeline. It's not going to give Mycroft a chance to work up enough anxiety to cancel.

Mycroft  carefully pads his  trousers and uses twice the normal amount of beta musk.

Mycroft knows that the abrupt end to their date the last time had a negative impact on Greg, because the man is so careful around him. Greg's body will near Mycroft's and then always edge away, again, and again. His nose is always that polite distance that society encourages, because it makes scenting almost impossible, and the few times his nose flares to intake the scent Gregory manages to arrest the flare of his nose in the middle, before it can even take in the scent. Mycroft admires his  self-control , he's not sure that he's ever been able to stop himself from smelling when the scent had already entered his nose.

After dinner Mycroft can't take the lack of physical contact anymore. His skin is screaming for Greg, and his body is in withdraw for his scent. He scoots into the middle of the town  car and lays his head on Greg's shoulder. Greg makes a surprised sound, and his hand hovers high in the air for a second, before it comes down to rest of Mycroft's shoulder.

"I thought after last time that you wanted to socialize, but not  _ socialize, _ " Greg says.

"I was just scared of the whole thing. Scared of myself," Mycroft admits, "Why did you agree to come out with me tonight if you thought that was all there was?"

"Being friends with you would be better than dating an average person, but man dating you," Greg smiles more widely than Mycroft thought the human face could go.

"Dating you is something better than I've ever imagined too," Mycroft admits allowing himself a long smell of the man now that he's pretty sure it's not forbidden. "That invite to come up to your house still valid?"

"Yes, if that's what you want," Greg says in surprise.

"Well, I don't want..." Mycroft blushes, and stammers a bit finding it hard to get the next couple of words out, "There are things that I don't want to do."

"We're talking about a location here, Mycroft, we're not talking about you giving me full rein to use your body as I see fit. I never have that. If you come with me now," Greg smiles at him as he takes his hand, "We will do exactly as much or as little as you want to do."

Mycroft nods, and without letting go of his hand Greg leads him out of the car. Their clasped hands end up situated in the middle of Greg's back. Inside of the house they go up one flight of stairs, and then down a long hallway. At the end of the hallway Greg pulls down a stairway from the ceiling with his free hand, and they walk up the narrow stairs. Greg's room is an attic, and when Greg reaches it he  has to crawl across on his knees, because his long body could not stand up without significant risk to his head. Greg's large bed takes up half of the room, and a short stout wardrobe shoved against the far wall is the only other furniture there.

"Sorry," Greg says turning around, "I'm sure you are used to places that are a lot nicer than this."

"Any place is nice with you in it," Mycroft says touching Greg’s face with one of his hands.

"Oh, you're smooth," Greg says moving in for a kiss. Mycroft isn't even sure exactly how it happens, but when the kiss is over he's on top of Greg. He pulls away more than a bit startled, "We should talk about the things I don't want to do."

"Right, limits are a good thing," Greg agrees moving his body back even farther to give him a bit of room.

"You can't bite me, and I don't want any..." he pauses blushing trying to find the word that would be best here, "penetration."

"Right," Greg smiles, "I can live with that. It's fun to go nice and slow, anyway. So biting is out, but how do you feel about a strategically placed hickey?"

"What?" Mycroft asks.

Greg reaches forward to undo Mycroft’s tie, and the first few buttons, and then he runs his fingers across the scent gland. A shiver runs through Mycroft's body at the contact. "I could kiss that, suck that, and you would really enjoy it."

"It won't do permanent damage, will it?" Mycroft asks ignoring the jumping that is happening in his stomach at the offer. He's always snorted at the idea that omega's bodies long for a bonding after a certain age. But right  now, he almost feels like his scent gland is begging to be shoved into Greg's mouth.

"No, it's only going to last a couple of days," Greg says.

Mycroft doesn't quite know how to ask the next question.

Greg tries to guess the question in the silence, "Seriously, a beta's scent glands are very durable. You generally have to use artificial teeth in order to crack them, but what we are doing here is something that even an omega could do."

"And still be considered a virgin?" Mycroft asks.

"Bonding isn't the same as sex, and the entire idea of virginity is nonsense," Greg says.

"Okay," Mycroft says.

Greg gently pushes him over so that Mycroft is beneath him on the bed. Mycroft's omega cock comes to attention in a way that makes him want to squirm against the man that is above him, but he keeps his  self-control . Greg further strips the clothes off his shoulder. Greg leaves it bare and admires it with his eyes for a long time. Mycroft has never enjoyed simple looks this much before, but right now he feels worshiped by the other man, and it's a very heady feeling. Then Greg's lips are upon the mark. It's a chase kiss at first, and then his tongue runs across it. Then there is a slow suck, and a longer one. Mycroft is ashamed of the wanton moan which comes out of his mouth. When Greg hears it there is a more intense suck and Mycroft completely loses his mind at the contact. By the time Greg pulls away leaving a hickey Mycroft has come.

"Oh my God," Mycroft coos.

Greg is grinning at him with a cocky smile.

"Let me help, you. I want to return the favor," Mycroft says sitting up, "Just tell me what you want me to do."

"That's not how this works," Greg says, "Just because I gave you something enjoyable doesn't mean you have to return the favor."

"I want to, but I don't know how," Mycroft says bashfully, "I've never done anything like this before."

"It's far more natural than you  seem to think it is. What do you want to do to me next?" Greg asks.

Mycroft hoovers over Greg not touching him at first, and then he lowers his body onto his. "Is this okay?" he whispers, "I'm not  too heavy for  you, am I?"

"No," Greg says warmly, "God that feels good." He reaches around Mycroft to grab onto his butt and rub himself against him in order to increase the friction. Mycroft pushes down rubbing and humping until he gets the same sound out of Greg that Greg had wrung out of Mycroft not that long ago.

"Jesus, you are good at this, is this seriously the first time you've ever done this?" Greg says in amazement as he holds the other man close to him.

"No, I mean, I've..." Mycroft blushes and stops the sentence, only continuing when Greg stops all motion waiting for the sentence to finish. "I've done some independent activities."

"That's hot," Greg mutters.

"Just a moment," Mycroft pauses in order to remove and toss away the padding. He looks at Greg worried, and embarrassed, but the other man is still looking at him as if he were the most attractive thing in the world, so Mycroft just resumed the motion of rubbing against Greg.

Mycroft tries not to think about the size of the member which is pushing against him. It's large for a beta alpha. It's much more the size of an actual alpha.

"God you're big," Mycroft moans.

"If you don't want to be covered in  cum you'd better stop what you are doing." Instead of stopping Mycroft pushes  down and increases the friction. Greg's orgasm is somewhat impressive, and forceful. Greg rolls Mycroft onto his side holding onto him. "God that was amazing," Greg mutters with adoration placing kisses upon his forehead and nose.

"I liked that," Mycroft announces being far enough  away from his orgasm to be back into a regular amount of deportment.

"Oh, I'd hope so," Greg says running his fingers through Mycroft's hair. They sit together in silence holding onto one another for a long time, and then Mycroft reluctantly pulls away. "I should probably go home."

"Okay," Greg says letting his disappointment into the statement.

"You want me to stay?" Mycroft says in shock.

" Of course, I do, but I understand if you want to go back to your own place. You'd probably be more comfortable there. I know this place is a bit of a dive."

"I assure you that I am quite comfortable here," Mycroft corrects snuggling closer to the other man as if to prove his point.

"Right, but I'm sure you have important places to be. I understand. I'm not offended if you have to leave."

"I didn't think you'd want me to stay," Mycroft says, "Besides, there are kids in this house. What will they think in the morning?"

"It won't be the first time that their Uncle Greg has had a sleepover with a beta," Greg informs him.

"Oh," Mycroft says blushing.

"Does it make you uncomfortable that I've got a bit more experience in this area than you?" Greg asks softly running his fingers through the other  man's hair in a way that makes him melt.

"No, it's just unexpected. Up until a couple of weeks ago I didn't know that this sort of thing was possible. I didn't know betas did this sort of thing. It was actually John and Sherlock who told me that you were flirting with me. I wouldn't have noticed otherwise."

"Oh," Greg says in surprise, "For the record I've been flirting with you for a long time."

"I can imagine, because the words that they thought were flirting were words that you have said to me more than once."

"You must have felt so lonely," Greg observes, "When you thought that you were the only beta who felt sexual attraction."

"I didn't really feel it," Mycroft says, "I mean, before you, before this, it wasn't something that I really thought about a lot. I didn't think it was  possible, so I didn't really ask myself if this was something that I felt."

"Really?" Greg says, "Is there any celebrities you feel things for?"

"Honestly I don't know," Mycroft says, "But I know that alphas do nothing for me."

"That I can understand. Fertiles have too many messy hormones for my taste," Greg says seriously.

"You'd be surprised how alpha you smell," Mycroft says, "Particularly when you come."

"You've got quite a lot of omega scent on you as well," Greg says.

Mycroft covers the hickey on his scent gland with his hand, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Greg says, "I like it."

"I'm not  an omega," Mycroft pouts.

"Of course not," Greg says firmly, "I'm sorry if I insulted you."

"I'm going to stay," Mycroft says firmly wiggling closer to the other man.

-0-

Greg wakes Mycroft the next morning with a kiss on his forehead, "I do breakfasts here," he whispers, "So I'm going down to do that now. You are welcome to sleep as long as you want to of course, but I just didn't want you to think that I left you or anything."

"Right, I'll just get ready and be gone," Mycroft says a little ashamed that he had spent the whole night here.

"Please stay for breakfast. I'd love to cook for you," Greg says.

"Okay," Mycroft says sitting up so that he can give Greg a more intense kiss before getting  up and following the man down the stairs. Mycroft stops in the bathroom though, to wash around  all of his scent glands, and to spray massive amounts of beta musk on himself to cover whatever the quick washing does not. 

By the time he gets downstairs there are two children, one not yet a year old, and the other closer to three sitting in  highchairs at the kitchen table. The baby has a bottle which she is banging against the highchair while the child is shoving bits of banana into his mouth. Greg is at the stove attending to a fry up.

"Smells good," Mycroft says, "Can I help with anything?"

"If you want to watch the meat," Greg points to a pan, "That probably wouldn't go astray. I've burnt the meat more times than I'd like to admit."

" Well, I can't say that I've ever cooked before so you're  already quite a bit ahead of me," Mycroft admits going over to the stove. "Your sister has three children then?"

"No actually it's five, but their mothers just got  these two readies for the day the quickest today," Greg says stirring the beans. Something warm happens to Mycroft's heart at the sight of Greg cooking, but he tries not to think about it too much. Omegas are supposed to be the ones doing the cooking, and the childcare. Part of the reason he'd never felt like an omega himself was that neither of these things had ever appealed to him. Having a partner who  actually would do these things he hated was far too exciting for him.

Mycroft flips the sausage and rashers of bacon. 

"Gag," a childish voice says.

"Yes, David?" Greg asks him.

"Mik," the boy says.

"I've got it," Mycroft says seeing that he is in a better position to walk away from the stove than his partner.

"Thanks," Greg says dropping a little kiss on his cheek.

Mycroft freezes at both the calm intimacy of the moment, and it's public nature.

"Sorry," Greg mutters.

"No, it was good. Just new," Mycroft says moving away to get the milk. 

Diana enters holding the hands of a child of about five years. "Oh! Good to see you again, Mycroft," she says with a smile which drops off her face when she glances around the room, "Madi is still not down?"

"I'll go for her," Greg says with a sigh. Mycroft hopes he'll be able to take care of the food while the other man is gone, but Greg flips the burners off as he leaves, and Mycroft sees that the food has more or less finished being cooked. He starts to plate it up, and Diana moves to help him which is fortunate, because she knows how much of the food to put on the plate of all of the younger children.

Mycroft doesn't quite know what to do with himself now that Greg isn't in the room, but Dianna manages to kill the silence that exists in the air, "So what do you do then?" she asks friendly.

"I..hold a minor position in the government," he says. It's actually the first time he's ever used this particular cover story. Most of the people who are closest to him know the truth, and he doesn't really have a lot of conversations with people who are not close to him.

"Oh!" She says with a chuckle, "Well imagine that. A government official in this house?" Mycroft tilts his head at her questionably, and that only causes her to chuckle all the more, "My wife and I, we don't exactly hold to traditional family values."

"Oh?" Mycroft says.

"No, in fact we both work jobs."

"That isn't so strange now a days," Mycroft defends.

"Oh of course not. But we wouldn't have to. We'd have siblings enough to look after us if we wanted to stay home all day, but neither of us could stand to have nothing in our days but nap times and nappies."

Mycroft looks over his shoulder at the children hoping that Diana will catch the drift that this is perhaps not the sort of conversation that should happen when the source of all those dirty nappies are so close at hand.

"I love my children, of course I do," the omega defends, "It's just I don't want them to be the whole of my life."

"I can understand that," Mycroft says.

"Well of course you can," Diana says, "You're supposed to think like that, being a beta. You are supposed to have family feelings, and other feelings as well. You are supposed to have a heart and a mind. The only thing that is shocking or strange is when people of every gender want to allow themselves the same thing. When an omega or even an alpha has something they care about that doesn't bear their genes people tend to think there is something amiss with that."

"I understand that people of all genders are whole people with minds as well as hearts," Mycroft says.

"Good, than you can tell people at whatever part of the government that you work for. See if you can get some things changed. We're working on it at our end."

Then suddenly Mycroft understand the joke that Diana was laughing at not long ago, "Ah, you work for the resistance then?"

"Yes, both of us."

"Good," Mycroft says.

"I never expected to hear that from a government official, but it is very much the sort of thing I would expect from someone my brother  chooses to bring home. He does have the best taste."

Just then Greg returns to the room with the surly Madison in tow. They are in the middle of an argument which clearly started some time ago.

"I don't want to eat breakfast," she whines.

"Madison, you need to give your mind the fuel it's going to need to get through the day," Greg argues back.

" So, if I don't go to  school, I don't need to eat breakfast? That sounds like a good deal to me!" Madi grins back at him.

"School is important," Diana says to her daughter with the air of something that has lost almost all of it's meaning by being repeated again and again.

Madi rolls her eyes.

"You don't know how lucky you are just to have a chance to go to school," Mycroft says, "It wasn't too long ago that fertiles like you didn't have the chance," he tells the young alpha.

"They were lucky!" she exclaims.

"I know a young omega, just fifteen years old, and he just came to live with my little brother. He's never had even the smallest bit of education. He didn't even know that such a thing as reading existed. He's been a prisoner, almost a slave to his parents his whole life, and he didn't have a way to get out of it. Now if he'd been able to read, if he'd gone somewhere  else he would have been able to get free a long time before this,"  Mycroft says.

Madi is a bit awed by this story, but much too proud to admit it. "I already know how to read though, so that wouldn't happen to me."

"The higher forms of education give you freedom just as much as the lower ones, Madi. When I was your age, well, I didn't exactly know what the world had to offer me, and I can assure you that no one around me was going to tell me either,  and that was only because they didn't have any more idea than I had myself. If I hadn't been able to read up on  things I probably never would have found out how I fit into the world." Mycroft gives a nervous glance around the room to see if he has outed himself.  It is clear that most people in the room think he's talking about being a beta who felt attraction to other people. Greg looks a bit confused  in light of the conversation they'd had earlier, but he doesn't look likely to ask any questions about it.

"How will multiplication help me be free?" Madi asks.

"It's going to help you figure out how to do your own paychecks," Diana offers, "And then you can make sure that you'll never be cheated by your employer. That's worth more than you could ever imagine."

Madi narrows her eyes at Mycroft once more, "What do you know about not being free?" she asks.

"Fertiles are not the only genders who are told exactly what they are allowed to be by society," Mycroft says, "There are all kinds of expectations that can feel small and constraining. I'm telling you that education is the most precious thing you can have in all the world. A hundred years ago there would have been no way for you to get it, apart from a bit of stolen illegal knowledge if you were very lucky. Even fifty years ago you could have gotten no more than the most basic lessons in reading, and only then if you were really lucky. It's only been in the last few decades that people, people like your mothers in fact, fought hard for your right to get this education you so carelessly throw away."

Madi still has her arms crossed, but now she is sitting down at the table, and when Greg puts a plate in front of her (containing an extra rasher of bacon) she begins to eat.

"I could  give her a ride to school if you want," Mycroft offers, "I usually pick up my brother for school anyway."

"Why would I want you to drive me to school?" Madi asks.

"He's got a town car," Greg points out.

The young girl grins widely.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock's youngest sister, Emma took to John immediately. There is something that toddlers always love about teenagers. She would not allow anyone but him to complete her bedtime routine by the time he had been there for two weeks. She loved to have him read stories to her, even though he was just beginning to make out the words in her simplest books. Emma was familiar enough with the books, having been read them many times, that most of the time when he didn't know a  word, she was able to supply it from her memory. John usually hated practicing reading, but somehow when he was reading the simple books for a little girl instead of just for himself it was a whole lot less painful. He could do Emma's "one more book" all night if it was necessary.

One day when Emma was finally too sleepy for "one more" she asked John for something else, "Scent me!" she exclaimed. John felt in his soul like this was an odd thing for her to ask for, even though he knew it really wasn't. Children were scented by their caregivers all the time. John had seen both of the Holmes parents scent their children each and every time they walked in or out of a room. It was just that John had no personal experience with it himself.

He tried to push aside the knowledge that the only time in his life he'd been scented was when an alpha at the omega house had pressed into his back and had only preformed the action  in an attempt to throw him into heat. He knows this is different. A family scenting isn't sexual. It could never throw him into a heat and required far less touching than the sort of scenting that he'd been subjected too.

He knows that many children Emma's age  were unable to go to sleep without a scenting, and he doesn't want the little girl to suffer, because he is the one putting her to bed instead of her parents. Emma is sitting up in the bed, so John barely  has to lean forward in order to give her the scenting. His nose stays a respectful six inches away from the curve of her neck, but Emma covers the distance by shoving her nose on John's scent gland. She runs her nose across it a couple of times in a way that makes him not entirely sure she isn't wiping buggers on him. Emma yawns, and falls back on the bed closing her eyes, and snuggling under the blankets, and clutching her scented stuffed elephant. 

John knows that he can leave the room now that she's asleep, but he can't quite bring himself to do it. He feels the need to guard her, even though +he knows that she is not in any sort of danger. He sits down on the floor figuring the urge to protect the little girl will leave after a while.

-0-

Mr. Holmes was a bit reluctant to go to work. It wasn't the sort of thing that people did when he was young. He'd stayed home for most of the time that his children were young, by the time he went to work there were only two children at home during the school day, and his wife to watch over them. The rest of his children were in school, and he'd thought that he would not miss too much time with them. The job had taken up more of his time than he'd imagined, particularly since he was starting his first job at middle age, and therefore had to play a lot of catch up. This was one of the long nights where he came home after most of his children were in bed, and as he always did on those  nights, he looked in on each of his children before he had  dinner and went to bed himself.

He's more than a little surprised to see a teenager sitting on the floor of his youngest daughter's room. "John?" he asks lightly.

The boy has wild eyes that Mr. Holmes does not understand for a second. He stands, but he doesn't make a move to leave the room.

"Oh, a first scenting then?" Mr. Holmes asks.

John nods his head looking worried and terrified.

"It's all right. It's very intense, but it will fade. If you scent me, you are going to feel a little bit better right now," he offers softly.

John stands, and moves his nose six inches from his shoulder, close enough to catch the scent, and to feel awkwardly close to the other man. The scent is almost unbearable for a few seconds. It's bitter and causes his stomach to turn, but it only takes a second before the scent turns from stranger to family in his nose. The scent is alpha of course, and John should hate it, but he's never smelt alpha like this before. Alpha sent is usually aggressively spicy- like pepper, or gunpowder. An alpha who has sired a few children, and especially one who has held and scented the children for hours, has a  milder scent it's true. But this scent is the softest scent John's ever seen from an alpha. It's the smell of dirt after a rain.

Mr. Holmes doesn't take a step to close the gap between them, but John finds himself drawn in, and ends up resting his chin on the older man's shoulder, a bit overwhelmed by this scenting, even  though it was far more subtle than the first scenting he had with Emma.

"I know son," Mr. Holmes says rubbing his back, "A first scenting isn't meant for someone your age. Normally it happens with newborns and helps them bond with their mum and dad right after they are born. A baby's world is small, and it doesn't have room for anything more than its family. A boy your age has thousands of other things in its mind for it to think about."

"Will I be okay?" John asks finally pulling away.

"You keep on scenting your other family, and Emma as well, and you'll be all right. You won't want to be away from her for a week or so. I'll get something in here for you to sleep on." He almost makes it to the door before he pauses and turns back, "You've never been scented then?"

"I...at the omega house I was?" John says confused.

"Oh, someone scented you, but you didn't scent back then. But your family? Your never scented your family?"

"We didn't do that," John says looking down ashamed.

Mr. Holmes's face turns to stone, but John knows that the anger isn't directed at him, "Well, you are with us now, and you'll never go without things that you need anymore."

John nods, his stomach turning with nausea. He's tempted to wake the toddler up for another scenting, but he decides to be the responsible one here.

"You really will be fine," Mr. Holmes assures him when he returns a few minutes later with a thick quilt for the floor and some pillows and blankets to go on top of it. "A few hundred years ago the best families in Europe used to prevent their children from having a first scenting until their wedding night. Foolish of course, there is enough hormones and intensity going on during mating and heat that there is no need to add more onto it. I'm just saying that you aren't the first one to go through this when they are older. You'll love Emma like a father for a while, and something of that will linger for years, but I suspect you would have done that without these added chemicals."

John nods.

"Don't be shy about scenting your family tomorrow, and in the days to come. Try to scent another family member once for each time you scent Emma if you want the side effects to lesson," Mr. Holmes advises.

John nods his head, "Can I...can I scent you again?"

"Of course," Mr. Holmes says looking positively proud that the boy would ask. The scenting does help.

-0-

In the days to come John becomes comfortable with scenting the Holmes' family. Mrs. Holmes has started scenting him every time he comes in to or out of a room, and when she catches on to the fact that sometimes John leaves a room just so he can come back  in and get two  scentings she becomes even more liberal with her  scentings . They last longer, and they pop up at random moments even when the two of them remain in the same room.

Mr. Holmes is around far less, but when he's home there are frequent and long scentings. The alpha scent does something to ground John. He's never known a good alpha before.

John scents the children too. He scents Emma dozens of times during the day, and the toddler eats up the extra attention and family pheromones. Anna, a shy five-year old beta-omega tolerated the increased scenting at first, but by the third day she'd begun to squirm in his arms when he picked her up for a scenting. He told her that he wouldn't scent her until she came to him, and asked for it, and it was two days before she did, but before long they'd fallen into a pattern of a half dozen scentings a day. 

As soon as Mycroft saw his mother scent  John, he'd followed suit whenever he gave John and Sherlock rides to school. His scent had something in it that John could never identify. It was a beta scent to be sure, but it wasn't as bland and common as every other beta he'd smelt in his life. There was a richness and added dimension to it that caused John no end of confusion.

Sometimes Greg was in the car when Mycroft came to pick them up, and then Greg would give him a nice long scenting which was more like a hug than a traditional scenting.

The rest of Sherlock's siblings that are at home (three siblings having chosen boarding school when it was offered, and another two at out-of-town universities), nine-year old Sara, eleven-year-old Max, twelve-year-old Danny,  fifteen-year-old Janie, and  nineteen-year-old Laura all followed their mother's lead in giving John  scentings whenever they entered or left a room.

The only member of the Holmes family that did not scent John was Sherlock. He'd  seemed a bit surprised the first morning when he saw his family scenting the teenager when he came down for breakfast, and quickly busied himself making breakfast (something he'd never done before) in order not to get caught up in the scenting.

John didn't make the first move to hug him, and neither did Sherlock.

After a few weeks the need to have Emma always in sight disappeared, and he didn't feel sick anymore when he didn't scent members of the family for a time. He didn't stop scenting the family though, because it was nice to feel as if he belonged. The  scentings just fell down to the numbers that the rest of the family regularly scented one another.

-0-

Mrs. Holmes had attempted to give her son the sex talk, four  times actually, and for two of those talks she had brought her husband along. Mycroft had been much more persistent in his attempts to educate his brother; he would wait until his brother took his hands off his ears andstopped humming before continuing. He'd used the drives to school to make his brother a captive audience, and most impressively he'd done most of the education that got into his brother's stubborn mind in one sentence bits thrown out an unexpected time so that by the time Sherlock realized what was happening he'd already heard the important bit of information.

All of this was to say Sherlock understood relations between alphas and omegas a lot more than he pretended to. He was careful not to touch John, careful not to let the other boy's scent enter his nostrils, and careful not to get close enough to let the other teenager be affected by his own pheromones.

If John misinterpreted the way Sherlock pulled away from an accidental touch of hands over schoolbooks, or feet under the tea table it was not Sherlock's fault. Sherlock kept his distance, and avoid scentings, and John followed suit. He wasn't happy about the way that Sherlock was avoiding him, but he wasn't about to rock the boat. To be sure, John would rather have a  fiance and a family, but if he had to choose, he would surely choose family.

He would not risk the deep and meaningful friendship he'd forged with Sherlock for a chance at something more.


	5. Chapter 5

If Mycroft had been in his right mind, he would have figured out what was happening long before he did, but Mycroft was never in his right mind when Greg was getting him off. This particular time Greg was using the strategy of sucking on his omega-sized cock while massaging the spot inside of Mycroft that drove him mad. Mycroft comes with a gush of fluid and the milk like ejaculate which was such a mark of an omega that Mycroft never understood how it hadn't given him away to his lover.

This time Mycroft doesn't go soft. Greg looks up at him with an impressed face. Mycroft runs his hand through the other man's hair, and then wiggles down his body until he's even with the other man. He begins the slow gentle frontage that is generally the slowest way to get them off,  but it hardly takes any of this for Mycroft to come again. Greg nuzzles his nose into Mycroft's shoulder, "God I love the way your scent changes when you orgasm."

Mycroft can't even understand what his lover has said, because he is chasing his next orgasm with desperation. The next gush his body gives forth finally allows his brain to catch up with a fact that his body has been  well aware of for a while. This is too much liquid, two much lubrication. He puts his hand around  Greg and gets his lover off as quickly as he can, and then he stands up, and begins getting dressed. He can't believe how long it took him to figure out what is going on, but he does know that if he doesn't get out of here soon his lover is going to reach the same conclusion.

"You're leaving?" Greg says in confusion. He glances down at Mycroft's still alert cock as he says the words.

"I. .. forgot about a business trip I have to go to in the morning," Mycroft knows the lie is  easy to see through, but he can't think of a better one right now.

"Okay," Greg says sounding disappointed, "How long will it be before I see you again?"

"I. .. don't know," Mycroft says flinching at how foolish he sounds, but it's not as if first heats are predictable. "I'll call you when the trip is over."

"Okay," Greg says trying to keep the sadness out of his voice as the other man leaves. As soon as Mycroft's head had disappeared beneath the floor Greg moves in order to put his nose up to Mycroft's spilled lubrication. "Jesus that smells good," he mutters to himself.

Mycroft feels like crying as he goes down the steps. He knows that it's not safe to leave the house. He almost goes upstairs to explain what is going on to Greg so that he could have and alpha beta providing him protection on the way home, but the idea of Greg finding out his gender in the midst of his heat is unbearable to him. He feels bad calling his driver this late at night, but he knows that trying to take a taxi home would no doubt result in him being raped. He waits inside until his driver calls to say that he's arrived. His beta driver asks the question, "Sir?" when he holds the door open for his boss.

"I know, take me home," Mycroft says curtly.

"Won't your..." the driver glances uncertainly at the second floor, and then leaves the third word blank, "be joining you?"

"No," Mycroft says firmly, and the driver doesn't ask any more questions. 

It takes all of Mycroft's self-control not to touch himself in the back seat of the town car, and when he gets out of the car, he's already got his key out, and ready to be put into the lock. The driver doesn't pull away until he's inside, for which he is grateful, because even in the short amount of time it takes him to make his way from the car to the house several lights come on as he no doubt gets the attention of nearby alphas and alpha betas. He feels a great deal of relief when he locks the door behind him, and even more when he brings himself to orgasm a few seconds later. 

The relief is short lived, and he stumbles down the hallway to his bedroom. He pulls out a box that his mother had given him when he was a teenager just in case, he ever had an unexpected heat. He'd sworn that he'd never use it, because putting a sex toy that his mother had purchased inside of him was just far too weird. But right  now, he could care less. He opens the box and selects the largest toy. He strips himself of the clothes which feel like fire on the skin. He pushes the toy inside of himself and pushes the button to inflate the knot right away. He comes, but each orgasm is less and less satisfying.

He knows it's too late to take a heat suppressor, even if he had someone to go fetch one for him. If he could get some alpha  sperm, heat would last a mere four hours, but without it would go on for days getting increasingly more painful. He uses the time after his orgasm to send e-mails alerting the people that he works with that he will not be coming in to work for the next couple days. He claims a rare kind of flu and assures his PA that she does not need to bring anything for him several times.

Soon the toy is not giving him any relief. He tries a vibrating one which gives him two more orgasms. He gets desperate and puts two toys in at once which gives him more pain than relief. He tries porn next, but that results more in him being disappointed in the society in which he lives than in anything else.

He rubs himself raw, and tries a cold shower, which helps only a tiny amount. There are some tears, and then he just lays there defeated and miserable.

It's three hours after that he gives Greg a call. "Gregory," he says wishing that the sexy sound did not get into his voice.

He hears the sound of a door shutting before Greg continues, "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"I hate to ask it, but can you come over here?" Mycroft says giving his disobedient cock a squeeze.

"I'm at work," Greg says.

"I know," Mycroft says. It was one of the many things on the list of why this was such a terrible idea, although as far as Mycroft was concerned it was far from the top of the list.

"I'll be right over," Greg says, "Wait for me."

Mycroft looks at the debauchery in his room, "Right." As soon as he hung up the phone, he puts  all of the toys back in the  box and shoves it under the bed. He strips the bed, and rummages through his closet finding fresh bedding. Then he runs himself through another quick shower. The house still smells like sex, but since he hires out his cleaning, he doesn't have anything to fix the problem with.

When Greg rings the  bell, Mycroft answers him nude. 

"Jesus," Greg says. Mycroft pushes him up against the  door and presses himself against it. 

"How did you know it was me ringing the bell?" Greg asks.

Mycroft doesn't tell him that he would have accepted almost anyone by this point instead he says, "I didn't have time to waste looking through peep holes."

Greg chuckles.

"I want you inside me," Mycroft says drawing Greg out of his pants.

"What?" Greg says pushing him away, "Honey, that's a limit. You set it as a limit that we wouldn't do that."

"But now I need it," Mycroft says sobbing in desperation.

"If we do this, you're going to regret it tomorrow," Greg says.

"I won't, I need you Greg. I need you, please," he begs.

Greg looks at him confused by the uncharacteristic desperation.

"PLEASE!" Mycroft  snarls at him

"Fuck, I'm probably going to regret doing this to you, but come on," he says walking down the hallway.

Mycroft pushes Greg onto the bed and crawls on top of him. He impales himself on the other man giving himself a bit of relief. A gush of liquid  comes out, and Greg's eyes focus on the sight of the massive liquid spirting on his clothes.

"Sorry," Mycroft says as he bounces furiously. 

"Not worried about the clothes, just being turned on by all this liquid," Greg responds rolling his hips to meet the other man.

Mycroft comes, but still stays hard, ane he is back to rocking after a few seconds.

"How do you feel about me coming inside of you?" Greg mutters a few minutes later.

"Yes, please, now," Mycroft responds trying to  rock harder against the other man.

Greg obeys the pleating, and bursts inside of Mycroft. Mycroft's whole body responds to the gift of sperm with fierce cramps. He collapses beside Greg on the bed.

"You okay?" Greg asks turning toward him.

"Yes," Mycroft assures him moving over to pull clothes off the other man.

Greg chuckles standing up to strip, "I think I've figured out what is going on." Mycroft sort of knew this was coming, but he still dreads it. "You bought yourself some crazy fancy omega in heat scent to spice things up in the bedroom, which by the way was more than spicy enough already, and then you threw yourself into a rut."

"Heat," Mycroft corrects automatically, not quite understanding how Greg hasn't figured out what is really going on here.

"The only part I don't understand is why you didn't let me help you right away. You were at my house when things got out of hand, yet you came here to rub yourself raw before you invited me to join you," Greg says moving back so that he's hovering over Mycroft. Mycroft spreads his legs eagerly.

"Again? You're going to be sore."

"No," Mycroft says shaking his head. When Greg doesn't look like he agrees with him, Mycroft gestures down to the liquid which is leaking out of him.

"I'm not saying that we are running low on lube here love, but this is the first time that you've had penetration, right?" Mycroft nods his head, "Then we've got to be gentle with you."

"No," Mycroft whines wrapping his legs around Greg pushing him closer to him. "I need you."

"We can still..." Greg begins, but Mycroft interrupts him.

"No!" Mycroft says, "I'm sure, and nothing else works. If I don't have your dick inside of me I'm going to die!"

Greg chuckles.

"It's not funny!" Mycroft whines.

"Well, I can't let you die," Greg tells him slowly entering him. 

"Thank you," Mycroft says seriously.

"I'll always be here for you," Greg says moving at a deliciously slow speed, "You've got to trust me to be there whenever you need me. It's okay."

Mycroft wonders if the deep connection he feels right now is because he is in heat, or because they are having penetrative sex, or because Greg is being so sweet. The words are out of his mouth before he even knew that he had thought them, "I love you."

There are kisses all over him-his neck, his face, his chest. Then Greg pulls back so that he is nose to nose with Mycroft, and he whispers, "I love you too."

For the first time since his heat started Mycroft feels like this is not the  worst thing that has ever happened to him.

-0-

Mycroft doesn't remember falling asleep, although  it is clear that Greg stayed up longer than he did, because at some point after he  fell asleep Greg carefully cleaned the massive amounts of bodily fluids  off of him and had rolled him out of the wettest spot (although there is no dry spot on his bed left).

Mycroft feels warm love bursting in his chest, and the thinks that he has never been quite this happy. Then he remembers that Greg thinks what happened between them was nothing more than the bursting open of an artificial heat brought on by some posh perfume. That might have worked yesterday when his mind is overwhelmed with sex and pheromones, but it's not going to work forever. If there is a chance that Mycroft's cover isn't blown yet, he's going to do everything he can to protect that chance.

Mycroft gathers his clothes off the floor, and throws them in the bin, and then he pulls new clothes out of his wardrobe. He would love to take a shower, but he's not willing to risk Greg waking up before he's made his great escape, so he just walks out of his own flat leaving his lover there.

He can't go to work smelling like an omega in heat without outing himself which would be a brash idea  considering the fact that no omega has ever worked in the field before. He  has to leave home or risk Greg figuring out what is really going on with him. He might be out of the most intense heat but being out in public for too long would still be dangerous. One of the reasons he had hated being an omega so much was because people saw you as nothing more than a sex object, and that tendency was so much worse when an omega was near heat.

He  sighs and calls his concerned driver. The other man seams much less concerned now that he can see the heat has somewhat dissipated. The man makes no comment when Mycroft asks to be driven to his family home, but you can see that the man has formed many questions inside of his mind.

The sun has not yet risen, and Mycroft is hopeful that he can get into his room without anyone noticing that he's home. He'd forgotten that his room was not only his anymore until he opens the  door, and a startled John sits straight up in his bed.

"Sorry for waking you," Mycroft mutters as he walks across the room to hide behind the room barrier.

He should have known that there was no way of hiding from an inquisitive teenager. "Why do you smell like you're in heat?" John asks.

Mycroft only answers with a loud sigh which should clearly tell the boy that he's not interested in answering questions like that.

"Mycroft, are you a beta?" John asks.

"Yes," Mycroft says with a lot more anger than he meant to put into it.

"Were you born a beta?" John asks softer.

That is a lot more understanding than Mycroft was expecting from the teenager. He'd had dozens of conversations explaining this to his family by the time he got that kind of understanding from his family. He emerges from behind the screen. "No, I was born an omega."

"And now you're in heat," John says.

"Yes," Mycroft says, "I was probably not as careful with some things as I should have been."

John looks at Mycroft's shoulder which is covered by his suit, "The alpha who caused you to go into heat didn't bond with you?"

"It wasn't an alpha," Mycroft says.

"Right," John says, "Sorry, does he identify as a beta as well?"

"Gregory isn't trans, he's an alpha-beta. He doesn't even know that I am trans," Mycroft says.

"But  you're not in proper heat anymore are you?" John asks.

Mycroft blushes, and resists the urge to get grumpy with John again, he knows that his frustration really isn't with the boy. "He helped me  through the heat, but he doesn't exactly know that's what it was. He thought I was a beta playing at being an omega in heat. I came here to prevent him from figuring out the truth."

"But you're probably going to have a baby," John says in shock, "He's going to have to know."

"I don't think I can have a baby," Mycroft says, "Not with an alpha-beta. It's not like I was with an alpha."

"If he is alpha enough to put you into a  heat, he is probably alpha enough to give you a baby," John points out.

Mycroft suddenly feels like he is going to throw-up. This causes him even more panic, until he reminds himself that it would be far  too early for it to be morning sickness.

"It's going to be okay," John tells him, "I'll help you if you are."

"I...I need to be alone for a little while," Mycroft pleads with him.

"Right, I'll just go get ready for the day," John says gathering up his things.

"Thank you, and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't let other people know that I was here."

"Of course," John assures him with a smile. John doesn't understand Mycroft's fear, not really. He imagines it might be a bit startling to be having a baby when that was not part of the gender you thought you were, but John wants to have babies. Babies are nice, every single one of them, it is only when people get older that some of them turn out to be rubbish.

Mycroft lays down on the bed fully clothed. He'd love to take a shower, but he knows that soon  all of his siblings will be scrambling to get ready for the day, and he's bound to be caught out if he goes right now. He'll wait until it is a bit  later in the day, and he has better odds of not being observed.

His hand goes to his stomach without conscious effort. It's not that Mycroft doesn't like children, he does. He liked each of his siblings independently (although when it got to be more than three or four of them in a  room, they began to drive him mad). He loves Greg's nieces and nephews and seeing how good he was with them was one of the things which really made him fall in love with the other man. He wouldn't mind raising a child or two with Gregory, truth be told. More than not minding it he would even enjoy it. The only problem Mycroft had with the possibility of having a baby was the actual pregnancy.

Omegas got pregnant, and he was not an omega.

His phone beeps, and Mycroft rolls on his side as he reads the message.

"You okay?" Greg asks.

Mycroft sighs, "Yes, just made a late start of that business trip."

He knows that Greg is not likely to believe that, but it's probably a story which is believable enough that Greg is not going to push his question anymore.

"Good luck, love you," Greg responds.

The words  warm Mycroft's heart more than he imagined that they would. He responds in kind, "Love you," and stares at the words on his phone for a few minutes before he closes his eyes.

That is another thing to consider if he really is going to be having a baby. He loves Greg, and if he does this wrong, he might lose him. He's been so worried about losing Greg if the other man found out that he was trans, but there was much more risk here. Would Greg be able to cope with the fact that he'd made someone pregnant when he had spent his whole life believing that that would never be an option for him? Would he blame Mycroft? Would Greg be angrier if Mycroft decided that he couldn't go through with a pregnancy? Would he be able to live with it if Mycroft destroyed his child?

Mycroft tells himself that there is no reason to focus on the problem right now, that he  could worry about it if it came to pass. It is not as easy to push it out of his mind as he would have hoped.


	6. Chapter 6

Greg had known when a horny Mycroft pressed himself against him that what he was doing was a mistake. In fact, he'd even said it at the time. There was no excuse for him to have continued with what he was doing. He'd known that it would be as disastrous as it was.

The first two days Mycroft had responded to his texts with lies about a business trip, but after the second day there had been no responses, and more alarmingly, Mycroft didn't come home. Of course, the other man hadn't officially moved in with Greg, the two of them had only been together for a couple of months, but there were more of Mycroft's posh suits hanging in Greg's wardrobe than there were of his own clothes. Mycroft typically stayed at his flat a night  three or four nights a week, but since the first time he'd come over to Greg's house he had not stayed away for an entire week at a time.

Greg is heartbroken about the fact that things between he and Mycroft have apparently ended. More than that Greg is devastated about the fact that he was the cause of this huge loss in his life.

Worse of all he's worried that he hurt Mycroft. He crossed a boundary that his lover had given him. Of course, he'd only did that because his lover had asked him to. He walked around day to day feeling as if he were a monster.

-0-

Mycroft couldn't bring himself to face Greg for several days. He kept telling himself that he was going to do it tomorrow, and then whenever tomorrow became today he was always saying that he was going to do it tomorrow, for sure.

He finally arrives almost two weeks after his heat. Diana answers the door. "Is Greg home?" he asks, even though he's been at their house several times when Greg was not.

"Mycroft!" she exclaims with excitement, "He's not, but please come in." She is clearly afraid that if she doesn't get him into the house right now he is going to disappear.

"Okay," he agrees entering the house, and going to the kitchen where Madi is sitting at the counter with a biscuit, and her homework. 

Madi looks up at him in shock and a little bit of disdain, "What are you doing here?"

"Madi!" Diana scolds.

"It's okay," Mycroft says, "You've got a right to be mad at me for disappearing from your life. I'm here right now, did you want me to help you with your homework like I used to?"

"Are you going to disappear again?" Madi asks.

"I don't know," he says honestly.

"Because you hurt Uncle Greg when you disappeared. You hurt him a lot," she glares.

"I realize," Mycroft says, "I'm sorry. I'm here now, because I don't want to hurt him anymore. I know I hurt you too, and that wasn't fair, because whatever went on between the two of us had nothing to do with you."

"You can help with homework tonight if you're going to stay tonight," she says narrowing her eyes with suspicion.

"Deal," Mycroft says sitting down next to her. Diana hands him a biscuit with a smile.

-0-

Greg stops for a drink after work, and as it has ever since Mycroft left, the one drink turns into three drinks. He comes home buzzed enough to dull some of the pain, but not so much that he is drunk enough to cause a bad example for the children. When he walks through the  door, he hears laughter in the living room, and when he enters  it, he is shocked to see Mycroft raising a toddler above his head.

"Mycroft," Greg says with shock.

Mycroft almost drops James out of surprise, and after getting him placed carefully on the floor he turns to Greg.

"Hello," Mycroft says a bit afraid that he's going to be told to bugger off. 

Greg moves forward for a scenting, and a hug. Mycroft can't smell Greg really, only the alcohol he drank on the way home. The scent makes him nauseous, and Mycroft adds it to the growing mental list of things that have that effect on him.

"Should we go to my room?" Greg asks feeling about getting Mycroft alone the same way his sister had felt about getting him in the house, if something wasn't done right away surely the man was going to disappear into a puff of smoke.

"You haven't had anything to eat," Mycroft scolds.

Greg hasn't been eating well in the past couple of weeks, and he would love to tell Mycroft that he doesn't need to, but he probably does. Besides, he is more than a little relieved to have Mycroft worry about him.

"I left a plate for you, in the fridge," Diana says, "You go ahead, and take it up too your room."

"It's okay," Madi assures Greg, "I already made him promise to stay the night."

"Thank you," Greg says grinning at his  niece .

Mycroft puts the food in the microwave. Greg tries to scent him again, but Mycroft takes a step back to avoid it. 

"I'm sorry," Greg whispers pained that Mycroft hates him so much he can't stand the scent of him.

"It's just you smell like beer," Mycroft says softly, "You can scent me all you want when that wears off."

"You don't have to let me," Greg says, "You don't have to do anything. You don't even have to stay here just because you promised Madi."

"I wouldn't have promised her if I didn't want to stay. If you don't want me to stay in your room I'd understand. I'd sleep on the couch tonight."

" Of course, I want you here," Greg says his eyes wet.

"You might not, later," Mycroft says turning from Greg as the food in the microwave beeps.

Alone in Greg's bedroom Mycroft finds himself unable to say the things that he'd meant to say, and the two of them just sit together in silence until Greg has finished his dinner. Greg starts to kiss him, carefully keeping himself far enough away from the face that Mycroft won't have to endure his sent. Which leads Greg, quite quickly down Mycroft's chest.

"Jesus, you smell good," Greg says when he is around Mycroft's stomach. He is about to move down to give attention to Mycroft's cock, but Mycroft grabs onto his head to keep him at his stomach. Mycroft has decided in a split second that he is going to let his body tell Greg the things that he is unable to find the words for.

"Describe the smell," Mycroft demands.

Greg looks at him for a second confused,  and then he attempts to obey that command, "It's fresh like when Mum used to hang out the laundry outside."

"Yes," Mycroft agrees, "And what sort of a person tends to smell like that?"

It takes a few seconds for Greg's mind, which had already shifted into sex, to shift back to the subject at mind. "Oh my God," he says.

"I'm quite sure that God has nothing to do with this," Mycroft replies.

"You're pregnant?" Greg asks sitting up.

Mycroft nods.

"Holy fuck, it's a miracle!" Greg says.

"No, it's not," Mycroft says sadly sitting up, and crossing his arms over him. "I've been lying to you." Greg just looks at him not saying a single word, "I'm an omega," Mycroft explains. He chokes a bit on the words, and when they exit his mouth his stomach crunches up as fiercely as it did when he was in the middle of heat cramps.

Greg looks confused, and then after a minute it clickes into place, "Do you mean you are a beta born in an omega's body?"

"Yes, that is exactly it," Mycroft says relieved at the understanding that the other man displays. He grabs onto the man, unconcerned about the alcohol on his breath.

"Oh Mycroft, it's okay that you didn't tell me you were trans. You don't owe that to anyone. This is not what betrayal looks like. It wasn't a lie when you let yourself pass as a beta for me, because you are a beta."

Mycroft snuggles up to his words.

"God I should have realized!" Greg chuckles to himself, "You were in heat."

"I was," Mycroft says.

"I'm so sorry about what I did," Greg says gravely, "Now that I know it was a true  heat, I feel even worse. You told me that you never wanted to be penetrated, and I did it. I can understand you not wanting to be around me anymore."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Mycroft says confused, "You did what I asked you to."

"You left," Greg says, "We had sex, and said I love you, and then you ghosted me."

"I'm sorry," Mycroft says, "I just really needed time to adjust. I wasn't really expecting a heat let alone...let alone the fact that I knew I might be pregnant. I mean, I didn't know for sure until you scented me," Mycroft shakes his head, "No, I knew."

"Morning sickness been bad, love?" Greg asks.

Mycroft nods.

"Scenting is supposed to be good for that right? The scent of the baby's alpha .... well , sire I suppose would be a better word since our baby doesn't have an alpha," Greg says moving down Mycroft's body to rub his head on his stomach, "Hey, baby..."

"No," Mycroft says sternly. 

"Sorry, what?" Greg asks.

"Don't talk to it."

Greg finishes the scenting, and the nausea in Mycroft's stomach is gone, but the unsettled feeling that had been sitting with the nausea is still there.

"I'm sorry," Greg says moving up to sit next to Mycroft, "I called it a miracle, and I didn't even think to ask how you felt."

Mycroft's lip quivers, "I'm a beta, and betas don't get pregnant."

"You know that Diana and June work for fertile rights, right? I'm sure they know someone who...could take care of it. I don't want you using someone they don't know, because it can get so dangerous since it's illegal. I also ask that you  let me come with you. I've heard some horror stories-I want to be in the room with you the whole time that you are unconscious."

"I don't want to..." Mycroft says shaking his head, "I wasn't saying I wanted to terminate."

"Okay, but I would support you if you did," Greg says. "Jesus, I can imagine how weird it would be if I was suddenly pregnant, and I can't imagine it's much less weird for you."

"It is very strange for me to think about being pregnant, but I want to have a baby with you far more than I don't want to be pregnant," Mycroft says, "How do you feel about that?"

Greg smiles, "I never thought having a baby was in the cards for me. I've always sort of assumed that I'd take some of Diana's babies if I moved out. I'd hoped, since we started this, that you might be interested in doing this with me. This is way better. More than I expected, but I feel bad being happy when you are so clearly not."

Mycroft shakes his head, "I'm excited about having this baby. I just wish I didn't have to grow it inside of me."

"Understandable, can you help me understand your new limits?"

"I  haven't really thought about it," Mycroft says.

"Talking to your stomach is a limit," Greg prompts.

"I want to separate myself from the pregnancy whenever possible. When you are doing what you need to do to make me feel  better, I want to pretend that I'm not in my body. There are probably going to be more limits, I've only begun to get this all figured out. Telling you was a big thing."

"Technically you didn't tell me," Greg says.

"Actually, I told you because you were too dense to believe your nose," Mycroft teases.

"Can I kiss you now?" Greg asks.

"Yes, kiss me, scent my neck, make me feel like I am a human, and not just a womb."

"You are," Greg says, "You're my beta," he says kissing him on the nose, "You are the love of my life," he says kissing him on the lips.

Mycroft moans, "I've missed you."

"I thought I lost you," Greg mutters as he begins scenting, keeping just a centimeter away from touching Mycroft's skin.

"Touch me," Mycroft begs, "Fuck me."

Greg pulls back, "How? I mean, what do you mean?"

"Jesus," Mycroft says, "Put your penis inside of me."

"No," Greg says.

" Oh, for God's sake, I'm not in heat right now, and I'm asking you again."

"Mycroft, I  thought I lost you, because we did that."

"But that's not why I was gone for a while, and now you know  that " Mycroft pleads.

"It was a hard line, and I shouldn't have crossed it," Greg objects.

"I moved the line."

"Why?"

Mycroft pushes him away, and sits apart, "I transitioned late enough that I have some experience as an omega."

"You had sex as an omega?" Greg asks.

"Oh God no. No, sex has absolutely nothing to do with being an omega. Well, everything and nothing. There were no gender mixed schools when I was a child. My parents enrolled me in an omega school. Every single Friday they would sit us down and explain to us how having sex would ruin us." 

"Oh sweetheart," Greg says in sympathy.

"They told us we were a piece of gum, and no one would want us if we were chewed. A used napkin, a  worn out piece of soap, or a cup filled with spit. Every week they had a new analogy, but the jest of it is that we had to be virgin or else we would ruin our life. I repeated what they said to Mummy once, and she reigned fury down on that place. I never went back, and my parents founded the school Sherlock goes to now, because God knows none of my siblings will ever go through that."

"You're not fucking used gum," Greg says.

"No, I get that. I heard you when you told me that virginity isn't really a thing, and it's certainly not the only feature that defines a person, but maybe....it got into my head a little. Maybe I was worried that crossing that line would change me. And then I did cross that line, and it didn't change me. I'm the same as I was before."

"And I like and  respect you just as much as I did before," Greg insists. "Did you think that I wouldn't?"

"I was surprised that I felt the same, really, and I wasn't actually a hundred percent sure that you would feel the same about me," Mycroft says.

"Sex is just a thing that we've done. It's a fun thing that we've done, sure, but it doesn't define us, and it doesn't change us."

Mycroft leans forward, and boldly scents him. "I love you," Greg whispers.

Greg can feel Mycroft grinning against his chest, "I was surprised when you texted that to me. I never imagined you'd say it without the smell of my heat causing you to lose your mind"

"I love  you; I love  you; I love you," Greg says nuzzling into him.

"I love you too," Mycroft says nuzzling the clothes off his neck, and giving him kisses on the scent gland.

"I want to bond with you," Greg whispers.

Mycroft pulls away looking scared.

"I didn't mean now," Greg says, "I know that bonding right now would be dangerous for you and the baby. After you've delivered."

"No, I don't want to bond, ever," Mycroft says.

"Right, that was a limit in the beginning," Greg says, "Just because you decided it was okay for us to go beyond one of your limits, doesn't mean that it's okay for us to go beyond more than one."

Mycroft opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain this to me," Greg assures him.

"I don't want you to think that I don't want to be with you, or that I don't want what we have to be long term. My desire not to bond is purely biological, not emotional."

"Right, the connection between bond mates can be pretty intense."

"That's not what I was afraid of, that actually sounds pretty nice," Mycroft says.

"Okay,  then I really don't understand," Greg says carefully.

"I like...when you suck on it," Mycroft says.

For one second Greg is confused, thinking that Mycroft is talking about his penis, but he realizes. "The  hickies over the bite mark."

"I'm sorry," Mycroft says hiding his blush in Greg's chest. "I know it's being selfish. Our child deserves to have parents which are properly bonded. You deserve to have someone who doesn't love you reluctantly or with reservations, but whole-hardheartedly."

"No," Greg says, "You're not being selfish. You are choosing pleasure about every week instead of just once. Besides, we might not want to live as a bonded couple, even if we got bonded. We might want to pretend to be roommates with an adopted kid. I don't need a mark on your neck with my teeth marks on them. What I do need is your love."

Mycroft pulls away to look at him, "In  this situation where we live as  roommates, we would still share a bedroom right?"

"Oh, yes, we would only be roommates to people that we did not trust. We would definitely be lovers, and partners."

Mycroft nods, "Would you be disappointed if we only have one child? I am really going to hate being pregnant, and I don't think I'll do it again."

"One is enough for me, of course it is! But if you wanted to have more you wouldn't need a pregnancy," Greg assures him, "Diana and I talked about the possibility of me taking on one or more of her children at some point. I'd be happy with one, but we could have more than one without you having to have extra pregnancies."

"God, I  would love that," Mycroft says, "Could we do that now, or would we wait until she'd had more children?"

"I think they would be open to it, we can talk to her."

"Right, but not quite yet. I'm still adjusting. Telling you was a big step."

"I respect that love, but you've got to keep in mind that you probably don't have long before your smell changes to people who are farther away from you. We are going to have to tell our families soon."

"I'm hoping the very strong musk that I use will take care of part of that. I don't want to tell our parents until I know what this will look like, and I'm not really ready to make a plan yet."

"Okay," Greg agrees.

"Now, sex," Mycroft pleads again, and this time his lover complies with the request.


	7. Chapter 7

Mycroft hasn't fallen asleep completely when Greg pulls away from him to get up. 

"Where are you going?" Mycroft whines.

"Sorry babe, but I've been putting Madi to bed lately. She'll miss me if I don't go down and read to her."

"Right," Mycroft says sitting up, "I should help with bedtime."

"You know you don't have to do that," Greg says.

"I know, but I like the kids, and I could probably do with some experience, especially with the little ones."

-0-

June is in the nursery with a baby on each hip.

"Can I help?" Mycroft asks.

"You don't have  to; it won't be the first time I put these two to bed at the same time."

"I want to," Mycroft says reaching for the older of the two, he'll work his way down to the youngest. "Hey little man. I can't quite understand your objections, care to voice them in a form I can understand?"

James, the  three-year-old stops crying in surprise at being talked to in such a grown-up fashion.

Mycroft carries him over to the rocking chair in the corner, grabbing a book on the way. He starts to read it to the kid, who fidgets and slides around on his lap.

"Sometimes he'll go down faster if you cuddle him on his bed," his mother suggests as she feeds the baby a bottle.

James does move less when Mycroft lays next to him on the bed. He cuddles up against Mycroft as he reads. The boy wiggles down in the bed until his face is even with Mycroft's stomach, but the man doesn't think anything of this at first.

"Baby," James mutters after a time nuzzling his nose against Mycroft's stomach.

"No honey, Mycroft isn't having a baby," June chuckles.

"Baby!" James insists louder. 

Mycroft contemplates fleeing, but he knows that will make James stay up even longer, "He's not wrong, but this wasn't exactly the way I wanted you to find out."

"Baby," James says over his shoulder at his mother in a tone which is clearly the toddler version of 'I told you, so".

"Oh, I..." June says, "We don't have to talk about it, Mycroft."

"I appreciate that," Mycroft says, "It is your brothers if you were wondering," he says softly rubbing James' back.

"Two betas having a baby is not much weirder than one beta having a baby as far as I am concerned," she says.

"Well...it's maybe less weird in my case...biologically speaking..." Mycroft sighs, "My body is omega."

"Oh," June says, "I still think of you as a pregnant beta."

"Thank you," Mycroft says going back to reading to James. 

When the baby starts to cry again James pouts, "Baby no room," he says pushing lightly on Mycroft's belly.

"No, the baby isn't going to share a room with you," Mycroft assures him. His stomach turns as he realizes he doesn't know exactly where this baby is going to live. He  has to make his decisions faster now that the cat is partially out of the bag.

James puts his little baby arms closer around Mycroft, and he drifts off.

"That smell," June observes, "It has powerful sedative properties on the little ones. More than once I think it was the only reason, we managed when Diana was expecting. It made up for the energy that pregnancy zaps from her."

"I don't think I'm far enough along to have my energy zapped quite yet," Mycroft says. 

"I meant to tell you about the positive bits, and here I am talking about all the negative ones. I'm sorry," June says. "You know, if..." June looks at the baby in her arms which has fallen asleep. "If you are considering...options...for this pregnancy I would like to help you with it. That can be dangerous, and while I can't eliminate the danger completely, I can help you with it somewhat."

"I really appreciate that. Your brother made a similar offer on your behalf already. I considered it, believe me, but...that's not the direction I'm moving in."

June beams at him, "I'm relieved. I wouldn't like to see you in danger like that. Just know that we'd love to help you, in a variety of ways we can talk about later."

"Thank you," Mycroft whispers extracting himself from the sleeping toddler's sprawling arms. 

Greg pops his head in right then, "Madi wants to see you, My," he says. Then he sighs, "By which I mean she wants proof that you didn't leave again."

Mycroft isn't sure if the turning of his stomach is only worry or if it's morning sickness. He pokes his head into the bedroom of the oldest child in the house. "Hey, Madi."

"Are you staying here tonight?" she asks.

"Yes."

"Why did you leave?" Madi asks.

"There is a complicated  grown-up answer for that," Mycroft says.

"But if you don't tell me why you left, how will I know how to keep you from leaving again." she insists.

"I can't promise you that I'm never going to leave again, but I can promise that I won't drop  out of your life completely. I consider you family Madi, and one way or the other I'm always going to be there for you."

"What about Greg? I don't want you to leave, because I don't want him to be that sad again."

"I can't promise you that Greg and I are going to be okay forever, but we are right now, and I'm going to work harder to keep things right between us in the future," Mycroft promises the little girl.

Greg wraps his arm around him from behind, "I'm going to try harder too Madi, but i don't want you to worry about grown-up stuff, okay? I love you, baby girl."

"Well, if you guys aren't nice to each other I'm going to make you be nice like Mummy does when I fight with my siblings," she says.

"Going to tie us together with a dish  cloth, are you?" Greg chuckles.

Mycroft leans forward, and kisses Madi on her forehead before leaving the room with Greg.

-0-

The next morning Mycroft kisses Greg's nose to wake him up. "Your alarm is going to go off in five minutes, and I would appreciate it if you would scent me for that time."

"Right," Greg says moving down to obey. 

Mycroft touches his hair trying to make the scenting feel natural. "When I was snuggling James last  night, he announced my pregnancy to June."

"I'm sorry," Greg says.

"I'm not terribly. Not as much as I felt I would be. She was great about it. I'm still a beta in her eyes. I don't want her to have to keep a secret from her wife for too long. I thought I'd bring John over to babysit tonight before dinner, and then we can see how they both feel about our plan.

"Okay," Greg says, "Do we have a plan?"

"I do, but maybe you won't like it."

"Tell me," Greg says looking at Mycroft as he nuzzles his stomach.

"I want to hide the pregnancy for as long as I can. Then I want to go somewhere where nobody knows me for the last part of my pregnancy and a few months after. I'll act as an omega there. Then I want to come back  here and go back to being a beta again. I want to live in a house with you, and I  wan to go back to work."

"I agree with all of that," Greg says finishing the scenting, and moving up Mycroft's body so he can face him.

"And maybe when we  leave, we...I mean, you were serious about taking care of some of your sister's kids, right?" 

"You, want to do that?" Greg asks shoving his face next to Mycroft's scent gland, and chuckling against his skin.

"Yes,"  Mycroft says, "I'll like two actually, but maybe they would be more comfortable if we took one  later on , after they have more children."

"I think they'd be glad enough to have us take some now, but I can ask. You don't even understand how excited I am. I've been deliriously grateful for the past day at the the thought of raising a baby with you, and now I know that I get to raise three. It is honestly a lot more than I'd ever hoped for."

Mycroft grins, "All right then. I'd like to tell Sherlock and John after we tell Diana. John is not going to be particularly surprised." at Greg's surprised look Mycroft sighs, "When I left you, after my heat, I went home. I'd sort of forgotten that John was in my old room. He smelled my heat on me right away. He was actually the first one who suggested to me that I might be pregnant. I was so sure that it wasn't possible that I hadn't actually thought about it."

"Okay, you're moving sort of fast on this," Greg says pulling the other man close to his chest.

"I want to be good for this kid. I want to get things figured out before he comes, and I need to get the pregnancy figured out before I start to get how to parent figured out figured out."

"Well, I must tell you, so far you're an amazing father," Greg begins to kiss him. At Mycroft's enthusiastic participation in the kiss Greg rolls on top of him and deepens the kiss. Just then they are interrupted by the ringing of Greg's alarm clock.

"Damn it!" Greg mutters.

"How much would a quickie ruin the family's schedule?" Mycroft asks.

"Well, if we're a minute late coming down there Madi is going to come up  here and look for us. She's been doing that lately, checking to see if you came in the night before."

"Damn, indeed," Mycroft says as Greg rolls off of him.

"I'm going to send you some information on towns we might want to stay in when my pregnancy is more advanced. If you could look them over when you are on your lunch  break, I would appreciate it," Mycroft says.

"Okay," Greg says giving him a smile before saying, "I love you."

-0-

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asks when Mycroft gets out of the car when he drops his brother off after school. 

"I just want a quick word with John," Mycroft says.

"What? Why? You've got secrets with him that you don't want to share with me?" Sherlock pouts.

Mycroft sighs, "Did you want to babysit for Gregory's family for a while tonight."

"God no," Sherlock says.

"I didn't think so," Mycroft replies making it up the staircase.

Sherlock followed him up, "He's not going to want to go with you. He has to study, to learn."

"I won't keep him all night," Mycroft promises.

"Something is going on," Sherlock says suspiciously.

"Yes," Mycroft says honestly, "And I will share with you what that is when I bring John home, if you are willing to keep hush about it. Well, you can tell family once I've told them, but it's not the sort of thing that I want you to share with everyone."

Sherlock reaches out to grab his elbow, "Mycroft, are you okay?"

"Yes," Mycroft says almost surprised by how much he means it, "I'm very okay, Sherlock."

John is frowning at a subtraction flash card when the brothers walk into the room. "Hey Sherlock, I finished writing that paragraph you wanted. It's simply awful though. My handwriting still looks like I'm doing it with my toes."

"John, would you mind coming to look after Greg's nieces and nephews for a half hour or so tonight? There are five all together, but the oldest will help you. I'd love to talk to his sister, and sister-in-law, for a bit."

"Right of course," John says standing up to follow the other man back.

"Does he already know?" Sherlock asks.

"I'm sure he's guessed," Mycroft says, "But I really will tell you both when I come back."

John tries to begin the conversation once the two of them are alone in the car, but Mycroft just repeats his request to wait until after the discussion, "I'll know more than," Mycroft says.

"I'm going to remind you," John says, "That I'm going to be with you for anything you need. I can't imagine how terrifying it is."

Mycroft's lips twitch, "I'm not scared John, and you are part of the reason for this. I really appreciate you being supportive. A great deal of omegas would not be so understanding."

Madi clings onto him frantically when they walk through the door of  Greg's house, "Hey, Madi," he says.

"Mycroft, can you help me with my homework again?"

"Of course, but after dinner. I've got a very important job for you first. This is John, and the two of you are going to take all of your siblings upstairs for a little bit, so I can talk to your mothers."

She looks worried, "Madi, everything is going to be fine," Greg assures his niece. 

She walks out of the room pouting. The adults settle the younger children in the room upstairs, before going back to the living room

"I think we're going to need tea for this one, aren't we?" Diana says.

"I'm trans," Mycroft blurts before she can get it.

"I know," Diana replies unsurprised.

"Right, it's okay that you told her. Relationships work like that," Mycroft says to June.

"I smelt that on you the first time we met," Diana says, "June kept your secrets."

"As did my wife. I only found out last night," June replies.

"Speaking of scent, James smelt something else on me last night," Mycroft says. Greg steps forward, to put his arm around the other man's back to offer him support as Mycroft says, "I'm pregnant."

"Wow. I did not see that coming," Diana says.

"Trust me when I say neither  did we," Mycroft chuckles. "But we've also decided we're happy about it. Not so much the actual being pregnant part, as the having a child."

"Mycroft is going to feel more comfortable if we leave London when he's visibly pregnant," Greg says.

"Well, that is certainly understandable," Diana says. "I assume it would be easier to pretend the baby is adopted when you return? Because I would not mind faking a pregnancy for you."

"Oh my God that's an amazing offer, but I'm not a monster if I don't own my own baby?" Mycroft asks with terror.

"No," Diana says pulling him in for a hug, "You would be a monster if you abused or neglected your baby, but other than that you are good."

"I'm going to tell the baby the truth of course, at some point when it's old enough to understand," Mycroft says.

"Your baby is going to be lucky to have you," Diana says cheerfully.

"Greg tells me that you and he had thought about the possibility of him taking care of some of your children if he ever left home," Mycroft says.

"That's still something you're interested in considering even though you are having your own?" Diana asks excitedly. 

"Yes. We'd be in a different town for the better part of a year, but we do intend to come back after. I don't want to take your kids away from you for very long. But it would be really nice to be able to start then, after all I'll not be working, and it would give them a good adjustment period.”

"My whole life I've planned on giving away some babies to my big brother, and now that I am sitting here faced with it the choice seems so much harder than I thought it would be. I have to choose a child not to see as often," Dianna says.

"Danny is out, because he is still breastfeeding," June points out.

"I do think we should keep with the young ones through, so we take some work from you," Greg says.

"James is clearly the right choice," Diana says fidgeting.

"You can change your mind," Greg says noticing her discomfort, "It would be understandable if you didn't want to give away any of your babies to us."

"The whole time we were talking about this I was always sort of picturing hypothetical children that I wasn't in love with, but that doesn't work, because I have always fallen in love with the babies before they are born," she says. "I understand what you mean when you say that you want to have a baby more than you don't want to be pregnant. I want to not be the mother of twelve children more than I want to keep my babies close to me."

"You'll still have lots of chances to be with them," Mycroft promises.

"So, are you thinking the second one is..." Greg begins, but he is interrupted by a quiet voice.

"Me." The whole room turns to see Madi in surprise.

"Honey, how long have you been here?" June says dropping down on one knee to be at her level.

"Pretty much the whole conversation. Don't worry the kids are fine. John could probably handle a thousand of them," she says with an eye roll.

"That's not what I was worried about, you want to leave your mother and I?" June asks softly.

"I feel like you do about  letting some of us go. I'm going to miss you, but if I didn't  go, I'd miss Uncle Greg, and Mycroft more," the little girl says looking up at the Uncle that she has known since she was born.

"Honey, we're still going to be there for you," Mycroft says, "We'll go away for a little bit it's true, but we'll talk to you on the phone, and then we're going to come back and live near you again."

"But you won't be here every night to check my math homework?" she asks.

"No honey, your moms will do that."

"They are rubbish at math, honestly, and it's just going to get harder," she says.

"Oh my God! We'll figure out the math, we'll order a textbook, or find something online, honestly," Diana says in exasperation.

"You won't have time. The only way you have time for me is because of Uncle Greg. When he works late no one tucks me in," she objects.

"Honey, we're going to do better. There will be two less babies, and then..." June begins.

"For now, but you're going to have more. From what I'm understanding Uncle Greg and Mycroft are going to live with three kids, and you'll eventually have nine, even if you only start out with three. Over my lifetime I'm going to get more attention over there."

"I'm sorry, Madi, we really tried to give you what you needed," June says.

"You did. You always gave me what I needed, and usually what I wanted too. It's just gotten harder for you every time there is a new baby. Besides, I've seen oldest siblings sometimes at my friend's house, you know the teenage ones where there are ten kids already?  Their whole lives are about their siblings"

"Honey, we would never put that kind of pressure on you," Diana says.

"I know, but I'd take it, wouldn't I? Because you would need it to keep your head above water, and I'd hate it, and I'd end up hating you, and I don't want to hate you. I'd rather keep loving you," Madi says with a smile.

"She makes a convincing argument," June says to her wife.

"And Mycroft is amazing with her. He can get her to do things she would never do for her mamas," Diana agrees.

"Also, we got to raise her a lot longer than if we were letting go of one of our little babes," June declares. 

"Oh, that is a fantastic point. How do you boys feel about not taking a baby?" Diana asks.

Greg looks in his partner's eyes for one moment before grinning at the chance he sees there, "Yes, definitely!"

"Madi, would you feel weird if I told people wherever we go to live that you and James were our children for the year that we are away from London? It would be a lot easier to explain, but if you don't want us to  lie, we're not going to," Mycroft asks.

"If you're willing to claim me as such I'm willing to claim you as such," she says jumping up to scent his neck.

"Gentle," Greg warns causing the child to latch onto him in the same semi-violent fashion.

"Brother, you know how much I hated you telling me to be careful during pregnancy. I'm guessing Mycroft is going to hate it a lot more," Diana warns.

"Sorry," Greg says.

"I didn't really expect the feeling like an incubator bit to kick in quite so soon. It's very...dissociative for me considering my gender," Mycroft agrees glad to be so well understood.

"Well, trust me, it's not going to go away as soon as you pop the kid out either. It's going to last for...well, I don't know that I've ever had long enough between kids that the feeling went away from me, but for you I'm sure it's going to be different with only one child. You'll have to let me know how long it takes to get rid of the incubator feeling." Dianna says." Mycroft looks terrified so she chuckles, "I've never gotten to the point where I weaned a baby before I was pregnant with the next one. I'm sure it's different after that."

"I'm not going to nurse," Mycroft says.

"Really? It's better for the baby," Greg puts in.

"It's really not," Diana says, "There is a slight benefit for breast milk in the first few days, but most of that 'breast is best' stuff is just about mummy guilt. As long as your kid is well feed it is fine"

Mycroft smiles at  her but feels a sinking in his stomach. What if he doesn't do the right thing for his kid? Worse yet, what if he doesn't do the right thing for HER kids? "I should probably take John home now," he says, "I'm going to be a bit, because I'm going to tell him, and Sherlock that I'm pregnant."

"I'm coming with you, right?" Greg asks.

"Sure, if you want," Mycroft says.

"You'll be back for dinner?" Diana asks.

"I'm really not sure how long this is going to take, so don't wait up for us," Mycroft advises. 

"Okay," Diana says giving them a family scenting before they leave the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock follows them up to Mycroft's old room as soon as they enter the house, and he doesn't say a word until the door is closed.

"Are you sure you want Lestrade hear as you talk about this?" Sherlock asks glaring at the other man.

"There is nothing in this that he is going to be surprised by. Besides, it does have to do with him," Mycroft says.

"I don't see how. It clearly wasn't a beta who knocked you up," Sherlock says.

"Jesus, Sherlock, speak respectfully to your brother!" Lestrade says while John stares at them open mouthed.

"Greg is the father of my baby," Mycroft says.

"Oh," Sherlock says blinking at him, "So you're an alpha." Sherlock flinches a little at his own words and corrects himself, although not nearly as much as he thinks that he did, "So you used to be an alpha."

"No, I'm not trans, but your brother isn't an omega," Greg says firmly.

"Are you sure you want him here?" Sherlock asks  his brother again.

"Sherlock, my story is not going to be any different whether he is here or not. He is honestly the father of my baby," Mycroft says with a sigh.

"So, what is your plan?" John asks looking concerned. Mycroft's heart clenches when he realizes that this teenager has clearly been worried about him for weeks.

"I'm going to hide this pregnancy for as long as I can, and then I'm going to move  somewhere else for a while.  Actually, Greg and I are going to be taking care of Greg's niece and nephew too. A while after the baby is born, we're going to come back, and I'll go back to living as a beta. We'll say it's Diana's baby, and that will mean one less child she'll have to give birth too."

"That's not fair that you are doing this for her, but you're not going to do it for your own brother," Sherlock pouts.

"Sherlock, you are way too young to have a baby, besides you're not bonded," Mycroft scolds.

"How could you even consider giving up your baby Sherlock?" John exclaims in horror.

"I think at the point you have twelve children they are going to blend together. I know my siblings certainly have. Besides, if Mycroft were to pretend that his child was mine, I wouldn't be giving up a baby so much as I would be reducing the number of children that I have," Sherlock says.

"It is the duty of every fertile to have as many children as they can. It's their sacred duty, moral duty, and their patriotic duty. Their biological duty! I was trying to be understanding about Mycroft's unique situation. I can sympathize with why he might not want to have children, since he doesn't feel like an omega. But let's be honest, he clearly has all the necessary parts. There is no excuse for him not to meet his quota, and there is certainly no excuse for his fertility being used to get other people out of meeting their quotas. What you guys are talking about is wrong. It's immoral to avoid your sacred duty," John declares.

Greg's face is red, "You will not speak to him that way...." he begins with one of those shouts which is all the more terrifying by being controlled enough to have a volume which is barely above a whisper.

But Mycroft waves him off. He smiles at John for a long moment before he starts talking, "I understand you John. Believe it or not I went to a school that told me the same thing that you have clearly been told your whole life. There is no way I can be angry at you for believing what I believed for many  many years. Maybe you'll be one of the loyal omegas who believe that their whole life, but I hope for your sake that you will not. Either way you've got to hear this. You are more than a womb. You are a human being, and your worth comes from your mind, and your soul, and your beautiful spirit. The most valuable parts of you have nothing to do with reproduction." John just stares at him. "That's okay. It takes a while to sink in, important things always do. But I am not about to start feeling bad that I don't measure up to old rules that I haven't believed for a long time. God knows I can't go back to that. I hated myself when I believed that I was nothing but a womb," he waves his arms, "Not that there is anything wrong with it. Some people like to be a womb with legs."

"Your mother is one of them," John says defensively.

"No, she's not. She never was, not even when she had seven kids at home with her all day, and more at  nighttime . Don't get me wrong, Mummy loves her children, but she didn't give away her mind in order to raise them. She used her mind, and her heart, and all the higher parts to raise us. More than that she raised  all of these children, because she wanted to. She did it for the same reason I'm having a baby instead of an abortion. She didn't have fourteen children because the law required her too, and that's what I mean by being more than a womb."

"Fertiles have to meet quota or else the species will run out," John says.

" Fertiles have to meet quota so the species has enough extra for war and famine and destruction of the environment. The world would  actually be better off if the population was smaller than it was. The world  actually survived a long time with populations that are a lot smaller than the bursting at the seams way that we live now. Besides, if having that many children  make life unbearable, why should be bear generation after generation to be forced to live a miserable way?"

"Betas aren't miserable," John points out.

"Yes," Mycroft says seriously, "And you are no less important than a beta, John. Your happiness is just as important as theirs."

John looks as if he's been slapped. He walks out of the room without saying another word.

"I never thought I'd see the day where you were happy with being pregnant," Sherlock snarks.

"I'm not happy to be pregnant, but I am happy to be a father," Mycroft says giving his brother a little smile.

"Who is going to drive me to school when you're gone?" Sherlock asks with his arms crossed.

"I imagine you'll take the metro," Mycroft says, not understanding the question which is lurking underneath his brother's question.

Greg doesn't miss the real question though, "Sherlock, we're still going to be here for you. You might not physically see us as often, but we are only ever going to be a phone call away."

Sherlock's lip quivers. "You owe me, Mycroft."

"Where does that idea even come from?" Greg asks in annoyance.

"He was the oldest fertle wasn't he? And then he decided he wasn't," Sherlock says.

"I know that you got some new responsibility when I came out as trans..." Mycroft begins.

Sherlock snorts, "Some? Every day that I don't knock someone up mummy and daddy have to pay a large fine."

"I've been paying the fine for a few years now, ever since I could afford it," Mycroft says, "Besides, they would have had to pay the fine for you when you turned sixteen regardless of me."

"They wouldn't if my older omega brother had a baby," Sherlock says.

"I wasn't an omega, Sherlock. I was never an omega, and I'm still not."

"But you are having a baby. A baby which you are going to pretend isn't yours, no matter the consequences."

"One consequence of me claiming this baby as my own would be feeling like I didn't fit into my own skin for the rest of my life, and I've already done that for more years than I care to count. You don't understand what that means, and I hope you never have to understand it. I am lucky enough to afford the fine, Sherlock, and I'm glad that I have the chance to pay it instead of living my entire life as a lie."

"The fines get bigger as the years go by, particularly when the number of mature fertiles in the family increases," Sherlock says.

Mycroft tilts his head, "Sherlock, is someone pressuring you to reproduce? You're still much too young for that."

"I don't want kids! They are gross, and hard work, and I'm not entertained by them the same way that most people are!" Sherlock blurts.

Mycroft's face goes soft, "It that's the only problem you could always get a nanny. Our family is very involved with the raising of children, but that isn't true for everyone. There are a lot of people who hire someone to raise their children, and no one would think the less of you if you were one of them. Besides, your omega might be more than happy to do the lion share of the work."

"I wouldn't want him to!" Sherlock announces, "I don't want to just make babies, and leave them for someone else to take care of. Besides, I don't want to make babies, that's gross!"

"You might not think that way forever, Sherlock," Mycroft says.

"But maybe he will," Greg says shooting his partner a reproachful glance, "Sherlock, some people don't want to be with others. Not just betas, but people of any gender. They just don't find any other gender interesting."

"I find omegas...interesting," Sherlock says blushing.

"Okay, so it's just the sex act that you are opposed to?" Greg asks.

"Ew!" Sherlock says plugging his ears.

"He does that, when you want to give him a sex talk you've got to take him by surprise," Mycroft says.

" Oh for God's sake," Greg says pulling Sherlock's hands down, "What? Did someone tell you that sex was wrong? Because I know Mycroft got that message."

"I don't think it's wrong," Sherlock says, "I am glad that other people like to do it."

"Okay, Sherlock, I think you should read up on asexuality, and you should definitely know that if you see yourself in what you are reading, we are going to be there for you. You understand? We are going to do whatever it takes to make sure your life works for you, okay?"

Sherlock's chin quivers, "I'm in love with John."

Mycroft flinches.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock says noticing his brother's reaction.

Mycroft says with a sigh, "That has got to be painful, Sherlock."

"He wants to have children, lots of children, and right away. I just want to teach him to read, and to laugh with him. And touch his hand. I really want to hold his hand, but I can't do that can I? Because if I touch his  hand, I will turn him into a mindless sex zombie, and that would be making a promise that I don't intend to keep!" Sherlock exclaims.

Mycroft steps forward to pull his brother in for a hug. "Shh, Sherlock," he soothes.

"You don't understand!" Sherlock exclaims in agony.

"You're right Sherlock," Mycroft says pulling away, "I don't understand. I'm ashamed of the fact that apparently Greg  understands you better than I do. I understand the heartbroken part, and as a beta who has sexual feelings, I might understand an alpha who does not."

"Don't tell anyone," Sherlock says.

"Honey, I would never share information like this with anyone unless you told me too. This is your information. But don't you go around thinking that there is anything wrong with it."

Sherlock nods.

"Sherlock, just because you don't want to have sex doesn't mean you are never going to have a romantic relationship," Greg says.

"I like John, and John can't imagine a world without sex and lots of babies."

"That might be true," Greg agrees. "But it might not be either. You might decide that you can make a compromise of having sex now and then when he's in heat. He might decide that he can compromise to have fewer children, in a way that doesn't involve sex. You two might come up with compromises that are totally unlike these. You and John might not be able to figure out a way to do this that makes you both happy, but maybe you will find something that makes you deliriously happy with someone else. Don't give up on finding your happily ever after because of this, Sherlock."

"I can't touch him without making him go into heat," Sherlock says as if he were giving a sex talk to the other man.

"Right, I'm not saying you go all snugly with him. I'm saying you have a conversation with him, and figure all of this out," Greg says.

Mycroft's stomach clenches at the thought of his brother being rejected which  seems to be the likely reaction based on how the things that John had just spouted about what was the 'proper' way to live your life  in regard to sex.

Sherlock voices his worries, "You saw how this conversation goes. I don't see any reason for him to think I'm a freak like he clearly thinks you are."

"Don't insult your brother just because you are in pain," Greg scolds before giving the teenager a hug. "You want to come with us when we leave, Sherlock? Might be a nice vacation from worrying about these kinds of things."

"Ew, I don't want to help Mycroft give birth," Sherlocks says turning up his nose at the thought.

Greg chuckles, "Well, we'll send you out of the house that day, but there are going to be months, and the vast majority of this time your brother will not be in labor. Seriously, you could come."

"I'd miss too much school," Sherlock says.

"We'd find you a school there."

"I don't know if we could," Mycroft says carefully, "There really aren't that many high schools for fertiles."

"The only reason that ours accepts them is because Mummy and Daddy fought  so hard when Mycroft was my age."

Greg shakes his head, "You'd think we were still in the middle ages. You should stay here then, but we'll invite John along if you want. He's not in school."

"You've got two kids for him to cluck over? He'll go, because all the kids are really getting too old for him here."

"Madi is seven, but if John came with us, we would treat him as if he were a kid, because he is."

"I don't think John would be happy without children to look after," Sherlock says shaking his head.

Greg decides then and there that he is going to prove to Sherlock that in fact John would be just fine without children.

"All right, we won't invite him, but I really think the two of you should have an honest conversation."

"Speaking of conversations," Mycroft says, "I think we should tell your parents next. what do you think?"

Greg sighs, "They are going to be less understanding than Diana and June, but they will probably be more understanding than John. It's going to have to be a weekend trip to the country, sleeping in my old bedroom and what not."

"Sounds lovely, do they have any idea that you've had romantic relationships before?"

"Oh no, they are going to be totally blindsided," Greg says, "But they are going to like the idea of another grandchild, particularly from someone that they didn't think could give them any."

Mycroft nods, "All right Sherlock, you let me know when you need something, and know that there is nothing you could ever say or admit that would make me like you less. Especially not something like this, something that is just you being you, and does not involve you doing anything wrong, okay?" he asks holding out his arms to him.

Sherlock submits himself to a longer scenting than he has allowed his brother to give him since he was a small child.


	9. Chapter 9

John almost laughs when Sherlock holds the door open for him, but he remembers just in time that he is on a date, and this is what trying looks like when your name is Sherlock Holmes.

"Thank you," he says seriously.

Sherlock of course, being Sherlock, doesn't miss the fact that John found his attempt at chivalry just one step above funny, and he makes sure not to make a similar mistake with what is left of the night. After all, John is no typical omega by any stretch of the imagination. 

" So, what is your favorite color?" Sherlock asks.

John stares at him for a long moment desperately trying not to react incorrectly but failing miserably.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock says, "Was I supposed to ask your favorite something else? Nobel peace  prize winner."

"Sherlock, you aren't supposed to ask me anything. What's going on?"

"I did some research," Sherlock admits.

"On how to act on a date?" John asks.

"Yes, I wanted to make sure that I knew how I should act on a first date."

"Well, there is your problem, Sherlock. We're not really on our first date. We're mated for goodness sake. We've known each other for almost a year, and we are family. First date questions aren't really going to work here."

"Well, then what is?" Sherlock asks nervously.

"Just talk to me, Sherlock," John says, "Like you always do. Like you did this morning over breakfast."

Sherlock nods his head, "You've started reading the box car children, haven't you?" he asks.

"Yes," John says, "I tried to get Emma to listen so I could pretend that I was reading them to her, but she's a bit young for them yet. Not as young for them as I am too old for them of course."

"They are good practice. You've advanced quite a bit, in your ability to read. I'm rather proud of you."

"Please, I'm about to be an adult, and a father, and I'm reading books meant for children."

"But you couldn't read at all not that long ago, you've really come an impressive distance," Sherlock says earnestly.

"Well, my math skills are quite poor. I'm afraid you're going to have to hold the purse strings when we move out."

"When we move out?" Sherlock says with alarm.

" Oh, I wasn't talking right away," John says reaching over to calm him. "I don't think we should try to go without your parent's help quite yet, but we're probably not going to want their help years down the road when both of us are done with our education, and we have jobs and half a dozen children."

"Well, by then you'll be able to master numbers. After all, working with money  just involves adding and subtraction, and you've  mastered that even if you haven't moved much beyond that," Sherlock says.

"I'm still glad that I'm doing this with you. I'm scared to be a parent of course, wondering if I'm ready, but I'd be bloody terrified if you weren't doing this with me. I figure if I'm not able to help the little one with his homework  later you probably will be able to."

"I think I've deleted a great deal of my formal schooling," Sherlock disagrees, "We might have to hire a tutor."

"You've been able to help me, so you'll at least be able to get them through elementary school," John says with a smile.

"Anyway, you're going to be the one to teach our children the most important things," Sherlock says, "How to deal with other people. You'll  oversee teaching them kindness and all of the other things that go into making them a good person."

"Oh, I don't know," John says pondering, "There are a lot of things that I want our kids to get from you as well. I hope they don't care what other people think of them anymore than you do, and I hope they are smart, and emotionally strong, and the sort of people who decide to rescue strangers from omega houses."

"I was bored," Sherlock says a bit embarrassed by  all the praise.

"You were my hero, and you really don't have to worry about how this date goes, because you've already given me the best date ever. Rescuing me out of that, absolutely tops.”

The waiter arrives just then to take their order.

-0-

John is surprised when Sherlock doesn't give their home address to the cabby when they leave the restaurant later that night. He more than half expects the cab to pull up in front of some crime scene. When they stop before a building with a huge telescope out the front of it John begins to become alarmed that they are going to be the ones committing the crime.

"Sherlock, what are we doing here?"

"I thought stargazing was a normal activity to do on dates," Sherlock says.

"It is, but not like this! Are we even supposed to be here? Whose is this?"

"It's a research organization," Sherlock explains, "I corrected a few of their published papers, and saved them from an error which would have resulted in the wasting of a great deal of grant money. They were so grateful they granted me a key to come and go as I pleased. I've only used it twice before."

"My mad genius," John says kissing him, and walking toward the house, "Of course my education hasn't gotten as far as the sciences, so you're going to have to explain it all to me."

"You want me to explain starts to you?" Sherlock asks in disbelief.

John nods. 

"All right, there are all these pretty lights in the sky. They are caused by chemical reactions."

"I know that," John says with a laugh.

"I don't know much more about stars than you do. It's not terribly useful in the solving of crimes you know," Sherlock says.

"All right,  then we'll just enjoy all the pretty lights together," John says taking his hand as they walk into the building.

"Is this good enough?" Sherlock asks nervously.

"It was fantastic," John says looking at him surprised by his worry, "Why are you asking?"

"I'm just not sure," Sherlock says uncertainly..."I wanted tonight .... well , I know it's just the beginning, but I wanted to make  it, so you didn't regret being with me."

"What would ever make you think I would regret being with you?" John asks. "If I ever did something to give you that  impression, I am  sorry , because you know I don't. I'm as glad to be with you as I could be," John says leaning forward.

"I should have sex with you more often," Sherlock says.

"I wouldn't want it all the time, Sherlock. Honestly. I enjoyed what we did on our honeymoon, and I would be open to it if that was something you were interested in doing again, but I'm  not sitting around wishing for it to happen. I'm happy with the life we've built together. I don't want anything more, besides," John says putting his hand on his expanding stomach, "For this little one, and a few of his siblings to join us in this life. I enjoyed this date tonight, I really did, but if it's going to make you think I want some version of you that doesn't exist I don't think we should ever date again. If I'm given a straight up choice between lying next to you in bed while we each read our own things, and a night out on the town, I choose the bed. I just liked this, because it was a change."

Sherlock smiles, "Okay good. I like what we have too, but I know you could go out there, and get something better, and I wanted to do something to prevent that."

"Oy!" John says giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "You really must get it out of your head that I am going to cheat on you. I really am not, you know."

Sherlock pauses upon walking into the observatory, "I have no idea how to use any of this."

John chuckles, "I think this might be one of those 'it's the thought that counts' things, don't you?"

-0-

Mycroft rushes into the building as if it were on fire. He enters the office, "Madi," he shakes his head remembering how many students are at the school, and tries her full name instead, "Madison Gladwell!"

"I'm here, Mycroft," she says coming out of a nearby room.

"Are you a relative?" the secretary asks staring at the papers in front of her.

Mycroft briefly considers lying, but it feels like the sort of question that she wouldn't ask if she didn't already know the answer too. "I'm the roommate of her uncle, but we live in the same house, and I take care of her."

"He's basically my dad, he helps me with my homework, and takes me to the park," Madi offers.

"I'm sorry, but we can't release a child to the custody of someone who is not a relative."

"Look, she's sick, and I was put down as her guardian when we enrolled her at the school."

"I'm sorry, those are the rules," the woman repeats with a shrug.

"How about this. If I can get one of her mothers on the phone, and she tells you that it's all right will that work?" Mycroft asks.

"I have no way of knowing that is who you are calling."

Mycroft sighs, "You've got her mum's number in the phone, right? What if I showed  you, I was dialing the same number?"

The woman nods, and Mycroft quickly dials the number on his phone. He puts the phone on speaker, "Diana, I'm at Madi's school, and I've got you on speaker. She's sick, and they are not letting me take her home, because I'm not a blood relative."

" Oh of all the ridiculous things!" Diana exclaims, "I authorize you to let him take her, and really treat him as if he is her parent, because he really is."

"Thank you," Mycroft says hanging up the phone, "We're good?" he asks the secretary.

"You can take her," she says glaring at him, "But I hope you've thought about the effect this unusual way of raising children is going to have on the little mite. Taking her away from her natural born parents to have her raised by strangers! Why..."

"He's not a stranger! And I asked him to take me," Madi says. "I'm asking again, Mycroft, take me away from here." He scoops her  up and carries her against his shoulder even though she's really getting a bit too big for such things.

"I've got you, Madi girl," he says soothingly. "Don't you worry."

-0-

"How are you doing?" Greg asks Madi kneeling next to the couch where she is laying as soon as he comes home from work for the day. "Fine," she mutters. "I felt better after Mycroft made me some soup and crackers."

"Good."

"The mean secretary doesn't think you guys are my parents."

"Well, she's wrong," Greg says soothing her hair down.

"I don't want to go back to school there," Madi declares.

"Oh honey, you hardly ever have to deal with the secretary. You're going to be just fine."

Madi pouts, and Greg notices Mycroft's face over his shoulder. He walks into the kitchen, and the other man follows him. 

"Maybe she shouldn't go back to that school," Mycroft says.

"How bad was that confrontation?" Greg asks beginning to get alarmed.

"It wasn't all that bad, but it isn't going to be the only one that we have in her lifetime. I don't like to see her having to put up with things like this just because  she's our kid."

"So, what? You want to give our daughter back? After a year?" Greg can barely keep his angry voice quiet enough that Maddy is not going to overhear them.

"No," Mycroft whispers, "I'm saying, maybe we should move. Reinvent our family a bit. Go back to pretending they are all our biological kids. You know that it wouldn't be too hard to fake papers in my line of work."

" So, what are we talking about Mycroft? You pretending to be someone that you are not for the rest of your life? You are living one life at work, and the other life at home?"

"I could go back to living as an omega," Mycroft says, "If it would make her more comfortable."

"Oh love, how could you possibly imagine that anyone who loved you would want you to do that for them? Even if she said yes now, when she was older, and she understood it she would regret it. She's fine. Remember, she chooses this, and if she wants, she can  unchoose it too."

"But she won't," a little voice says causing  both men to turn and look at her.

"You really have to stop eavesdropping," Mycroft scolds her lightly.

"Mycroft, please don't pretend to be an omega," she says with despair in her voice.

"It breaks my heart that that woman was mean to you today, and it's going to happen more often honey. I could make  it so people don't say things like that to you anymore."

"Stupid people are always going to say stupid things. It would be so sad if we based our lives off their opinions," Madi says seriously. "And... if you can't live like a beta when you are one...what does that mean for me?" she asks.

For a moment Mycroft feels as if  all of the breath has been knocked out of his lungs. He is well aware how hard the path he thinks she is preparing to walk is. He kneels down before her, and says, "Madi, honey, are you telling me that you are trans?"

"No..." she says looking scared, "That's why I'm so scared. I feel like an omega, but I don't want to do everything that omegas are supposed to do. If you must live like an omega there is no hope for me, and I might as well put on the apron and get baking right now."

"No, Madi, you are going to live the life you want, now and in the future. You're right, I owe it to the next generation to try to live as bravely as is safe for me, and that would be true even if you didn't need it. There are plenty of kids who do: trans kids, and gender non-conforming kids, and kids like you who just want to be you, and your gender at the same time, and not have people tell you that your gender is so all encompassing that it tells you exactly what you can do and can’t do."

"What can I do to make it easier? Is there something I should have said to that awful woman?"

"No honey, she didn't bother me. I've dealt with people who are way worse than her. The only reason this one bothered me so much was because you were there. I was foolish enough to think that you would be able to get through your whole life without ever having to experience things like that."

Madi wraps her arms around him, and squeezes, "I'm fine. I love you, and know you are right."

"Thank you, Madi love," Mycroft says kissing her on her hairline.

"Another thing you didn't consider with your hairbrained scheme," Greg says, "I might have been willing to live as an alpha for a few months to help ensure that my babies entered the world as easy as possible, but I would not want to live the rest of my life like that."


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock watches John carefully for the next couple of days, but he doesn't talk to him as much as he used to. It's the third time that Sherlock glances up at John while Sherlock checks a single page of math that John finally sighs.

"Sherlock, it's okay if what happened there changed things between us," John says.

"What?" Sherlock says in surprise. "I'm just worried about you, are you okay?"

John closes his eyes, "It's not as if I am broken."

"No, but you were assaulted. I don't understand how you are so okay," Sherlock says.

"I am," John says looking at the book he was attempting to read even though the words are swimming before his eyes.

"I'm not okay," Sherlock says quietly. John looks up at him in surprise. Sherlock continues, "Someone hurt you, and I don't want them to ever do it again. I want to wrap you up in bubble wrap, and never let you leave the house again, but I know that isn't the right thing to do."

"I'm scared too," John says, "I want..." but he shuts his mouth.

"What?" Sherlock says.

"I wish I could hurry up, and get mated, so I wouldn't have to worry about this anymore."

"Oh," Sherlock says looking down.

"I wasn't saying you should do it," John says quickly, although he had most certainly been hoping that Sherlock was going to volunteer.

"I wish I could," Sherlock says.

John looks at him surprised, "You're...physically unable?"

"No," Sherlock says flopping down in his chair like he is a toddler. Sherlock sighs, "I don't really understand it. I'm just starting to try to put this into words. I think it's called asexual. I don't really...I'm not interested in anyone."

"Really? Like a beta?" John says.

"I'm not transsexual. I don't want to be a beta," Sherlock says.

"Okay, I was just trying to understand," John says.

"I think I feel about people the way that people THINK that betas feel about other people, but maybe that isn't quite true either. I... I want some things, but I don't want all of them, and I know it's not reasonable. I know that omegas need to have someone to rely on." John just waits for him to finish, "I like you John, and if it was fair to you, I'd ask for things...things like holding your hand, and kissing you, and holding you. But I'm almost certain that I would never want to go beyond that."

"I would be open to that," John says earnestly sitting up.

"You can't be," Sherlock says dismissively, "It would put you in an awful position. An unfulfilled heat can be extremely painful. I would never do that to you."

"There are ways around that," John says amazed he’s not feeling as deeply  uncomfortable about all of this as he felt when he was discussing it with Mrs. Holmes. It feels natural to be saying this with Sherlock.

"You can't use heat suppressors on a first heat," John says.

"There is a way around it, at least assuming that you are not opposed to...masturbating on your own," John mutters the last part.

"What?" Sherlock says in shock.

"I would just need your sperm to stop my heat. I wouldn't actually need you. You could bring it to me, and I could take care of myself until the heat lessened."

"You'd get pregnant then," Sherlock says.

" So, kids are out of the picture for sure?" John asks, "We could of course use birth control, I would just really love to have children."

"You are so young," Sherlock says, "Not yet."

"But later, for sure? Because if it's not for sure I might...this plan might not be enough for me. I can give up sex, but the idea of giving up both sex and children might be too much for me," John says.

"I don't think I'd be a good father," Sherlock says slowly as if his heart is breaking. "But I agree that kids have to be a part of your life. I never should have even mentioned it, you can do much better than me, and don't deserve to be talked into a deal like this."

"Sherlock, you'd be an amazing father. All you need to be good at being a father is to love the kid, and you are capable of amazing amounts of love.  So, don't you tell me that you CAN'T be a father, but if you want to tell me that you don't want to be a father that's okay."

Sherlock's eyes tear up, and he looks away until he can blink all the tears out of his eyes. "I might be willing to try spending some time with children and see if you are right. But I know that I don't want twelve. Loving twelve children as they deserve to be loved would take a whole lifetime, and I only want parenting to be a piece of my life.”

"Okay," John says grinning as he reaches forward, and takes Sherlock by the hand, "I feel like we should sign some antiquated courting ritual here."

Sherlock pulls his hand away, "You are right we should do this proper. Let's court."

"Sherlock, no one has done that for decades," John objects, "It was a joke."

"It's respectful, and sweet, and. .. slow ," Sherlock says.

As soon as John senses it's not all about him the idea sounds a whole lot better to him, "You do realize I've had a bit of...exposure, and there is little chance I'll make it all the way through a courting before I go into heat?"

"True, but I'm not going to want to do the last few stages of courting anyway."

"True," John says smiling, " It sure  seems like we were made for one another."

"I still don't feel like I am being fair to you," Sherlock says carefully. 

"Sherlock," John says clearing his throat, "If I'm being  honest, I've never been that excited about the prospect of sex. I thought heat would make it endurable, but I was not looking forward to it. I felt more fear than anything."

Sherlock's eyes go soft, "You're not just doing this out of fear are you? Because sex with someone you love would not be scary. You're not going to regret it later when you find someone you can be with completely?"

John grins, "I can't imagine being happy with anyone but you, but the safety your bite mark will provide me with is a nice bonus."

"When you moved in Mycroft gave me...supplies, rut suppressors, and birth control. We won't need the condoms, but I'll get you the pills, because once we start this your heat could start anytime, so you should be on the medicine."

"Right, but I have them already," John says.

"Really?" Sherlock asks in surprise.

"Yeah, your mom provided them, but a second dose before I had to ask for more wouldn't hurt," John says blushing.

"Okay, let's start courting," Sherlock says moving over to the bed to sit down. The two of them look into each other's eyes, and work at making their breathing match, but before they can they both burst into laughter and look away.

"This is serious," Sherlock complains.

"I'm sorry, serious face," John says making eye contact again. This time they manage a few dozen breaths in unison before they burst into laughter again. It takes five tries, all told, before they can make it through the one hundred required breaths in unison for the first day of courting, and then Sherlock slips from John's room, and returns to his own.

-0-

Mycroft makes a habit of stopping by to check on his brother and the  young, traumatized omega each day when he finishes work. Often, he finds the two teenagers giggling over a book, and he almost wonders what he is worried about.

His mother invites him over for tea the third time, and Mycroft decides to risk it even though he's already had two cups of tea today, and he has promised to cut down on the amount of tea he drinks for the sake of the baby.

"You know an omega brought John back that day," his mom says. 

"I was aware," Mycroft says carefully.

"She was the sister of someone...I think his name was Greg. She  seemed quite surprised that I didn't know who Greg was. She said he was a friend of yours."

"He is," Mycroft says, but then his stomach does the familiar flipping of nervous nausea he's become very familiar with since he became pregnant. He attempts to fix the lie, but can't quite go all the way to honesty, "A very good friend."

"He's an alpha, this Greg?" his mother asks attempting to make eye contact with her son.

"Alpha beta," her son corrects.

"Oh, so what do you and Greg do together?" his mother prompts.

"I. .. I'm living with him, actually," Mycroft mutters looking down at his feet, knowing he still hasn't said all that he wanted to say.

"As more than roommates, correct?" his mother asks softly.

Mycroft nods.

"Honey, you could have told me. I would have understood. I understood when you told me that you were a beta, why would you think I wouldn't understand this too?" she asks sounding hurt.

He looks up at her, "I thought it might confuse you, because it confused me, especially when it first began. I didn't want you to think I'd changed my  mind or was less of a beta."

"Of course not, attraction isn't the same as identity," she says. "Do I get to meet this man of yours?"

"Yeah, I'll arrange that," Mycroft says.

"So how did you meet him?" she asks still smiling.

Mycroft tells the truth before he remembers why he shouldn't do that. "He's a cop, he brought Sherlock home a couple times."

"Sherlock was brought home by a cop?" she asks alarmed.

"Sorry I didn't tell you. I promise it was nothing major. More often than not it was truancy. Still, we're lucky it was someone understanding like Greg who brought him home. Greg was actually involved in Sherlock's rescue of John. Sherlock's plan sort of hinged on the fact that he knew Greg was going to scoop him up," Mycroft says.

"Good, you deserve someone like that Mycroft. You are always doing for other people, and never thinking about your own needs. He's good to you?"

"The best," Mycroft says with warmth, "He is doing a lot to raise his sister's kids. That's actually where we’ve been living, although we’ll probably get our own place soon.”

"You're parenting? Can I meet the children?" she says sitting up excitedly. 

"Um...actually when we move out, we're going to take two of them with us," Mycroft says causing his mother to clap her hands.

"Tell me about my grand babies!" she exclaims.

"Madi is six. She's in grade one, and I check her homework almost every night," he says. His mom's eager face causes him to continue, "Greg reads her to sleep, and sometimes I go into listen, but only when James goes to sleep fast."

"James," his mother says with a grin. 

"Yes, he's a little cuddler," Mycroft says, "I'm not even sure he really cares about the story, but he does care about being held."

"How old is he?" his mother asks.

"Just a bit over two years," he replies. "When he hasn't just woke up, and when he's not  tired, he's not clingy though. He likes to explore. But you've got to watch him all the time, because he can get himself into trouble even faster than Sherlock could at that age."

His mother chuckles at that. Then she takes her son's hand, "When you first came out to me as beta the hardest part for me was the thought of you never having children. I tried to tell myself that not everyone wants that, that I wasn't sad about my beta children not having kids, and so it wasn't at all fair to you. But I wanted that for you. Mycroft, I had so much trouble not seeing you as a parent, and it broke my heart. But I tried to push past that, because all the pain that ever pops up in a relationship between a mum and her pups comes from her expecting them to be something they don't want to be.  So, I let my image of you as a parent go. But I'm glad to have it back," she says squeezing his hand, "I'm glad for you."

"Mummy, I'm pregnant," Mycroft almost whispers over the table.

She stares at him for a while before she speaks, "How?"

"It's Greg's," Mycroft mutters looking down.

His mother let's out a long breath, "Thank God. I didn't know that was possible, and I was hoping that...that this baby came from a voluntary act."

"Yes," Mycroft says. "Although it's unexpected. We didn't think it was possible either."

"This is why I haven't been getting my scenting lately, isn't it? You are  scentable already ?" Mrs. Holmes says.

Mycroft nods.

"Is it okay? Since I know?" she asks. Her son stands up, and the two of them scent one another. Mrs. Holmes leaves her hand on Mycroft's shoulder. "Thank you," she smiles at her son. "How are you doing with this? I mean, since you are a beta."

"It's hard, complicated. When I am farther  along, I'm going to leave...with Greg and the two kids. I can't bear to live here when I am obviously pregnant."

"You'll let me be there for you, right? When it gets close to the time? I can't imagine my baby going through labor alone," she says.

His eyes are more than a little bit wet, as he says, "I would love to have you mom, but you need to know that I might be going by a different name when I am there, and I'm going to be living a different life. This pregnancy is making me feel not very much like  a beta, and I really want to be able to separate out the part of my life which is omega like from the rest of my life which is not."

"I know that you've always been independent. But I hope you are going to let us know if you need anything. It's going to be hard to switch lives and raise children for a while."

"I know, especially since I'm probably not going to be working for quite some time. but I'm sure I have enough saved."

"I'm asking you to let me know if you run into a hard spot," his mother says with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, of course I will," he agrees.

"Now, when do  I get to meet the grand babies!" she exclaims.

"Give me a chance to tell the rest of the family first," he pleads. "I have told Sherlock and John, but that is all."

"They are courting you know," Mrs. Holmes says leaning forward conspiratorially. 

"Mom," Mycroft says in exasperation, "They aren't courting, they are dating. People don't go in for all of that old fashioned stuff now a days.

"No, I'm pretty sure they are courting," Mrs. Holmes says taking a sip of her tea.

"Did they actually use that word with you?" her son asks.

"Oh no, the dears haven't said a word about it to me. But I've walked in on them several times staring at each other so intensely that they didn't even notice that I’d walked in. The second time they were holding hands as they stared, you know like you would on the third day of the courting ritual."

"They were touching hands," Mycroft says pinching his mouth together.

"Oh! There you are worrying about it! I just think they are the cutest couple! I don't see any reason why you should fret about them.

Mycroft sighs, "I hope it works out, and is as wonderful as you say it's going to be. I think I'll just pop up and see them."

"Now don't you go letting on I told you anything," his mother scolds as Mycroft heads up the stairs.

He pushes the door to his own room open to see the two of them not engaged in staring like he'd expected, but rather in sitting on the bed with their shoulders touching, and their hands clasped together. Both of their eyes are focused on a book which John is reading aloud with Sherlock supplying the words whenever he gets stuck on one of them.

Mycroft clears his throat, and when they don't look up to that he greets them. Sherlock jumps away looking startled, dropping the other boy's hand.

"Mycroft, I didn't hear you come in," he says.

Mycroft stares from one to the other, "Whose idea was it then? My guess is it was John's."

"It's none of your business," his brother retorts.

"It sort of is, since he's the source of our birth control" John says, "And it's not like he wouldn't have found out later."

"Sherlock, this is not the best thing for you to do," Mycroft says.

"What you don't think I'm good enough for John?" Sherlock asks in offense.

"I think you have unique attributes which make the two of you  incompatible ," Mycroft says carefully phrasing it in a way which will not out his brother.

"He told me that he was asexual," John says, "We've got a plan that we both believe will leave us happy."

"A plan that we are not going to share with you, because it is PERSONAL!" Sherlock exclaims.

Mycroft stares at them, "I don't see how this is not going to result in a lot of emotional pain, and physical pain as well, at least for you, John," Mycroft says sadly.

John sighs, "So it is going to work, because I don't really want to have sex any more than he does, even though I'm not asexual, but we both really want to be in a relationship. We already love each other, and there are some physical things we both want, and some we really don't want. We're going to be fine."

"Really?" Mycroft says, "All right, well, then you too are really meant for each other. Do you need more supplies to make this easier?"

"Not right now," John says blushing, "But I might need more heats suppressors in a couple of months."

"I'll make sure to take care of that. You tell me whenever you need more than I'm giving you," Mycroft says.

"Mycroft can you maybe keep this to yourself for now?" Sherlock asks. John looks down at the words, he didn't really want to be reminded that his partner doesn't want this relationship to be public, "John isn't really ready for it to be public knowledge," Sherlock finishes much to John's surprise.

"Wait, what? I thought we were keeping it quiet because of you," John says.

"Well, this is a miscommunication," Sherlock chuckles.

"Look, we've kept it secret for a couple of weeks now, we might as well continue, because it's only going to be a couple months until I'm in a heat, and it's obvious."

"Besides, the forbidden thing was sort of doing it for me," Sherlock admits.

"Really?" John says tilting his head at him in interest.

"I should leave you guys then," Mycroft says.

"Mycroft, when you need help...I mean, when you get close to having a baby you should call me, and I'll come there to help you," John says, "I could be in the room with you or watching the other kids. Whatever you need more."

"Thank you," Mycroft says with a smile.

-0-

Mycroft's stomach is doing back flips during the family dinner, and he doesn't really think it has an excuse considering the fact that Greg had scented him for nearly an hour before they came. Greg has always wanted to be all over him, but it's been so much more intense ever sense the scent of pregnancy has been on him.

His mother keeps volleying questions at Greg which the other man answers with much more graciousness and patience than Mycroft would if he was in his position.

When dessert is  served, he reaches under the table to take Greg's hand. Greg squeezes his hand, and then Greg brings it on top of the table. John catches the action with the corner of his eye, and grins at them. 

"I'd like to make an announcement," Mycroft says.

The room turns to him, and he almost loses his nerve, another squeeze from his lover helps him to continue. "Greg, and I are dating. We're actually going to be living together really soon. And...um...we're expecting."

"Expecting what?" Emma asks.

"A baby," Mycroft says looking directly at her.

"Oh!" she says clapping her hands together. Then she turns to her mother, and says, "Mummy, can we have a baby too?"

"No dear, I think it's best to stop having babies before your babies start having them," she says smiling. "I am really happy for the two of you, and I hope you know that I am more than willing to help you with any  childcare that you find yourself in need of."

"We appreciate that," Greg says, "We're actually going to be taking care of two of my sister's children as well."

"Now then, we've all got to get in on this scenting," Mr. Holmes says standing, and pulling Greg up first. After he scents the young man he turns to his son, "I assume the reason you avoided a scenting earlier is because you wanted your mouth to make the announcement instead of your scent gland?"

"More or less," Mycroft says letting him be hugged, "My scent is a little confusing right now. When I've got my musk on people aren't likely to think I am pregnant, but just to be really confused what is happening. I just can't be too careful though. I don't really like the thought of smelling like a pregnant omega, and I don't really want people to smell me like that."

"But you've got to be scented by Greg," his mother says suddenly alarmed that she has failed to give him the sexual education training that she should have.

"No, of course he scents me, but I don't really mind it. He's not scenting a pregnant omega when he does it. Not really. He's scenting a pregnant beta."

"Son, that is the same way that I think of you," Mr. Holmes assures him. "You have to know that I'd never think of you as anything else but the gender you told me that you were when you were a teenager."

"I know," Mycroft says seriously, "And you have no idea how much I appreciate that. That's why I'm letting you scent me, even though I wouldn't let many people who aren't family do it."

"So, these children you're going to be adopting, when do we get to meet them?" Mr. Holmes says.

"I'll bring them over sometime next week," Mycroft promises. "There is something that you should know though. I am feeling very dissociative with this pregnancy, very much like I did before I transitioned. In order to help with that I am going to be leaving before too long. Greg, the children, and I are going to live in a small village during the last part of my pregnancy, and for a couple of months after."

"But you are coming back after?" Mr. Holmes asks seriously.

"Yes, we'll come home," Mycroft promises.

"Well," Anna, one of Sherlock's older siblings, says, "I think this occasion calls for champagne, for those who aren't pregnant."

"Or children," her mother says pointedly as she goes to fetch the suggested drink.

Greg gives Mycroft a peck on the cheek while he whispers, "That went really well."

"I'm sorry your family didn't go  as well," Mycroft whispers back.

"I think I'll go ahead and claim your family now that we're together, what do you think?" Greg says.

Mycroft nods giving his hand a huge squeeze.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is new. I made a mistake in posting a while back, and if you read Chapter 11 before it is now 12.

John tells himself to relax, but his body does not listen to him. "John," Sherlock whispers with his hand touching the other man's shoulder. John jumps away from him, and only when he is standing a ways away from the other man he stops. He feels foolish.

"I'm sorry John, I was going to ask you what was wrong," Sherlock says being careful not to move, even though everything in him wants to.

John takes a few breaths before he says, "Sorry."

"No, John, you are never allowed to apologize for telling me no. The occasional no is a healthy part of any relationship. You don't have to explain if you don't want to, but if you could give me some hint to where the line is so I don't cross over it again it  would help."

"I think...it was just the memory of an alpha at my back," John says.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind," Sherlock says standing up to leave the room.

"Stay," John says, and as soon as Sherlock stops moving John moves back into the bed. This time they are face to face as they move into a snuggle. John's body is tense for a moment, and Sherlock is about to pull away when he relaxes. "Yes," John says, "A man that I love at my front is very different than an alpha at my back. It's just what I thought."

"You're sure?" Sherlock whispers.

"Yes, I'm fine," John says.

"I mean about the loving me. That's more than a bit unwise," Sherlock advises.

The laughter between them is familiar, but it's also different, because they are now close enough together that they can hear the laughter in each other's chests.

"I love you too, for the record," Sherlock says. His hand moves to hold John even closer to him before he even thinks about it, but he quickly pulls it back. 

"It's okay," John assures him, and the next minute the two of them are pulled as close together as two humans can be. They don't even try to make their breath unit, as that's not an official part of this task, but it does it anyway. John reaches his hand up to run it through Sherlock's hair. Sherlock lets his leg John.

They had meant to keep their first cuddling session to the half hour that proper courting would allow them. They hadn't intended to fall asleep in each other's arms.

John wakes early the next morning to a high fever, and himself  rutting against Sherlock. "Sherlock!" he says waking the other boy. "I'm in heat!"

"Oh my God!" Sherlock exclaims, "We fell asleep! I'm so sorry!" he leaps  up and is heading for the door when he stopped by John's voice.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"It will be hours before it's advisable for me to bite you."

"I know," John says.

"You're..." Sherlock says glancing toward John's erection, "I thought you might want to be left alone.

"Not yet. Can you hold me for a little bit?"

Sherlock nods, and gets back in the bed. John thrusts his nose forward for a scenting. Sherlock pulls back, "I'm sorry," John says pulling away from him, "Is this not okay for you?"

"It's fine. You just don't smell like you. It's almost like being in bed with a stranger."

"Well, you still smell like you. It's...calming," John says.

Sherlock chuckles, "I don't exactly have that effect on most people."

"Tell me that you love me," John pleads with him.

"I do, and I'm going to do my best to make you happy, oh so happy. I might not always be good at it, but I'm going to try," Sherlock promises him.

"I'm not worried," John tells him. "I trust you a whole lot more than I trust other people." Neither of them ever pictured that when they found themselves in this situation it would come so naturally to them, but it does. They hold each other talking about school, and cracking jokes for about an hour before John finally says, "I wouldn't object if you left the room now and brought me something back that would shorten the time. You've still got the...deliver system, right?" John asks referring to a turkey baster that they thought they had successfully stolen two days before (Mrs. Holmes had caught them but avoided a conversation that none of them would enjoy by quickly darting down the hallway so they didn't see her.

"Right," Sherlock says extracting himself.

-0-

When Sherlock returns thirty minutes later, he enters only after having been told by John that it was safe to do so five times. When he  does, he is holding the baster in one hand, and water, and two energy bars in the other one. "I want you to eat and drink something before you use this," Sherlock says.

"Sorry, I'm going to need that when it's fresh, but I will promise to eat those right after.... well, pretty close to right after," John says blushing when talking about sex again. Something about his heat makes him feel wanton and he doesn't want Sherlock to see him like this, or what would be far worse, to think of him like this.

"Okay, should I bite you yet?" Sherlock asks.

"I think after, yeah? I've been taking the birth control for a couple of weeks, but that would make extra sure," John says. 

"Right," Sherlock says handing the ominous kitchen utensil over and placing the food and drink on the table by John's bed. He is shocked how unprepared he is for the very thought of having children and is glad that John has already taken precautions to prevent it. "I still feel bad about leaving you to this...can I? I mean...should I kiss you?"

"Yes," John says standing up. If they hadn't fallen asleep last night, if John hadn't already been exposed to so many alphas against his will, then they would have shared their first kiss with their minds clear. But the heat is less all-consuming than John had been led to believe, and his mind is clear enough for this. His heart is totally clear and open. He leans forward, and he can feel that there is a smile on Sherlock's lips as they meet. It's a chaste kiss, with closed mouths and no moisture, but it is still so different from all the quick pecks that they have given each other on the cheek that the two things cannot even really be compared to one another.

John barely waits until Sherlock has slipped out of the door before he grabs himself. He hopes Sherlock would not be offended by him thinking about Sherlock as he did this, but it only feels right. John is glad that they thought about preventing kids before his heat came on, because logic is the farthest thing from his mind. When he has Sherlock's sperm inside of  him, he  actually forgets for a few seconds that the purpose of this is to make his heat end  sooner and is not to make him pregnant.

Right now, he wants to be pregnant with Sherlock's baby more than he wants anything else, even having Sherlock in his bed. But he knows that when the heat is  over, he'll be glad Sherlock suggested waiting. He will appreciate having a bit more time to learn before childcare becomes  the majority of his days.

-0-

Dawn is breaking, and Sherlock knows that his mother is getting up soon. He really doesn't want to go tell her what is happening to John, but he knows it would be far better than his mother breaking in on them later, and she is going to have to explain Sherlock's absence from school today.  Actually, Sherlock thinks with delight he might get a couple of days off, because of this.

He knocks on his parent’s door and is somewhat befuddled when his father is the one who answers the door. His father understands the reason for the terrified look in his son's eye, and says, "Don't worry son, I'm going down to eat breakfast, you can have your mother to yourself."   


"What's wrong love?" she asks as he enters their bedroom.

"John's in heat," he bursts out.

"Oh dear, I should have prepared you more. I should have known that things wouldn't go slowly, because of his history. Don't go into him quite yet. I'll run, and get you some things," she says quickly.

"No, Mycroft made sure John had things already. I just wanted you to know...I won't be going to school today, will I?" he asks.

"Of course not, you'll stay with him as long as he wants you. You know that omegas tend to become clingy particularly after the first bonding. I think you should bring some food and water to him when you return, he might not want you to leave again," Mummy says with concern remembering how desperate she'd become during her first heat.

"I actually already brought him food and water," Sherlock says proudly, "And I'm not going to be with him the whole heat."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Mummy exclaims with her hands on her hips, and her best glare for her son, "You can't put someone into a heat, and then neglect them! It is your responsibility to take care of him when he is in heat. You get your butt in  there and take care of him! Now!"

Sherlock blushes, "I can't believe my mother just ordered me to have sex. John, and I have an agreement, because of course we TALKED about this before we touched each other. I didn't put him into heat by accident."

"I saw you courting," his mother agrees, "But he's got to change his mind. A heat is miserable without help, and it will go on for days."

"Right, well, we found a way around that," Sherlock says hoping that his mother isn't going to ask him what he means by that.

"It's not just that heat suppressors don't work on a first heat, they are dangerous to use as well. There are so many hormonal changes in a first heat, you just can't add any more hormones onto that," Mummy protests.

"We know that" Sherlock sighs, "We went for a more natural method. Strictly speaking, John doesn't  actually need an alpha, he just needs a particular thing an  alpha produce , and I gave that to him, without being in the room when I produced it."

"Ah, and then I assumed you've done something by the way of birth control then, because you are much too young to be making a baby. I would hate to see that boy having a distraction from his education. He's made an amazing amount of progress already, but I know that boy, and I swear to God if he has a baby  now, he's going to spend most of his life less educated than his own children. That's no way too live."

"We're taking care of it," Sherlock says.

"I'm going to trust you know what that means, trusting that you actually listened to those blitz sex talks that your brother gave you."

"We're using two methods just to be sure," Sherlock says with a sigh.

"All right then, my little baby, all grown up," she looks like she's going to cry. "You are going to let me plan a mating ceremony for you I assume."

Sherlock crinkles up his nose. He had been hoping that he could avoid all of that, but he nods his head anyway. If there is going t be a mating ceremony, it is certain that his mother is going to be involved in it.

"Yes, and a honeymoon! Oh, there is so much for me to plan."

"We'll do the planning, after his heat," Sherlock says. 

-0-

Sherlock takes is time going back to the room making sure that John had enough time to take care of himself a few times after he inserted it, and when he comes  back, he brings more nourishment.

"Sherlock!" John says with almost too much enthusiasm. He grabs onto Sherlock fiercely.

"I'm here, now, it's okay," Sherlock says.

John is working hard to prevent himself from crying, "I'm sorry, but as soon as you were out of  sight, I was convinced that you were gone, and that I was never going to see you ever again."

"Go ahead and cry, it's just hormones," Sherlock says.

John sobs in his chest for a little bit. "You should bite me now," he says, "I can already feel the heat going down a little bit."

"I want you to eat and drink first, because there is a good chance you'll fall asleep after," Sherlock says.

John hates the idea, but once he's taken a few bites and a long sip of water he finds that he's really hungry, and he gobbles all of it down.

"I don't know how to do this without having you face away  from me," Sherlock says.

"I've got an idea; can you go get your  Belstaff ?" John asks. "I think if that is wrapped around  me, I'm going to know it's you behind me instead of some stranger."

Sherlock quickly goes to obey the suggestion.

"You're not  leaving, are you?" his mother asks in alarm when he walks past her with it.

"No," he says. She clearly doesn't understand so he adds, "It's a request."

"Oh dear! I really wish I hadn't asked that question!" she exclaims, "Go on then."

Sherlock quickly retreats back to his room. This time, with the coat wrapped around both of them, John manages to remain calm, even though Sherlock is behind him.

"You're sure about this? This is a pretty hard decision to go back on once you've made it," Sherlock says.

"I know that, and it's a little late to go back on things now."

"No," Sherlock says, "This is a different level of commitment. If you don't want to do this now is your chance."

"I've never been so sure of anything in my entire life, go on than, alpha, claim me," John requests.

Sherlock pushes John's shirt  aside and brushes the spot with his fingers. A shiver runs through John. Then Sherlock applies his lips for a light kiss, and then he runs his tongue across it.

"Please, Sherlock," John begs.

Sherlock obeys him, but at first the bite is too gentle, and it barely breaks the skin. A second later his teeth pierce the skin. Sherlock might not have listened as closely to his brother's sex talks as he thought he did, because he fully expected the metallic taste of blood to enter his mouth.  Instead, he is greeted by the sweet taste of scenting fluid spilling from the gland. He swallows what is in his mouth, and then sucks up the remainder of the liquid.

He pulls away to examine the mark, "Are you okay?" he asks, "I didn't hurt  you, did I?"

"God no," John says, "You should leave."

The reluctance in his voice confuses Sherlock, "You don't want me to."

"No, but if I don't jerk myself  off, I am going to die," John  exaggerates with a chuckle.

"Oh," Sherlock says settling in behind him, and wrapping his arms around him again, "Go ahead then."

"I can't do it when you are here," John objects.

"I'm not opposed to sex, John. I just don't want to participate in it. Right now, you want me as much as you want to touch yourself, so I don't see any reason why you can't have both."

"Oh God, Sherlock," John moans, "I'm actually going to do that then."

"Please do," Sherlock says wrapping the  B elstaff around the two of them.

Sherlock fully expected to be uncomfortable with what follows, but John is so discrete that he's not bothered by the motion the other man takes beneath the coat. 

"Scent me," John whispers.

Sherlock is happy to oblige. "Your smell hasn't changed to be a mix of me and  you yet ."

"I didn't think it had," John says turning toward him, "But that doesn't change the fact that I want to be scented."

"Mmmm," Sherlock says crinkling up his nose, "You smell like heat."

John tries to hide his disappointment, "Can I scent you?"

"Sure," Sherlock says leaning his head over to give John access.

"You don't smell different, but you smell so much...more," John says.

Sherlock runs a hand slowly across John's back, again, and again.

"Thank you," John says, "I used to have nightmares about my first heat, and I used to dream about my first heat, too. But this is better than anything that I ever dreamed about. This is...better than my ideal," John says.

Sherlock kisses him where his forehead meets his hair, "Go to sleep now, love."

John snuggles into his  chest and closes his eyes. Sherlock feels happiness bubbling up in his chest.

-0-

Sherlock wakes up to the flash of a camera on a phone. He blinks his eyes open to see that he is not the subject of the picture. John's taking a picture of his new bond mark. When John turns to see Sherlock awake, John cuddles back against him. 

"You going to post that?" Sherlock asks.

"What? No," John says.

"It's a bit traditional isn't it? Bonding mark pictures. Unless you still don't want people to know," Sherlock says. That thought had honestly never occurred to him. He assumed that when they were officially bonded John would be okay with the world knowing.

"I'm proud of this. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," John says earnestly. He opens his phone. "Posting to social media," he says. "Wait, let's get a picture of you too. Then people will know how lucky I am."

"They might think you are lucky when they see my face, but that won't last past them hearing me talk."

"Are you kidding? Sherlock, I seriously hit the jackpot with you-you are gorgeous, a genius, and rich. My God, people would fight over a prize like you."

Sherlock sits up, and stares at him in awe, "You have to be kidding me, right? You're the catch? You're so...kind, good. And you are way smarter than I am."

John snorts, "I can't even read."

"Most people would not be able to learn as fast as you have. I'm so proud of you. I love you, so much," he says ducking his head down, so that he can hide his emotion in the other man's chest.

"I love you too," John mutters, "And I'm going to try to work hard to make myself something that you deserve."

"You already are, John," Sherlock says.

"Okay, so let's take a picture of you," John prompts holding up his phone.

"They are going to wonder why I'm wearing clothes."

"They'll just think it was a picture that I already had on my phone," John says.

Sherlock looks stiff and odd as he waits for the snap of the camera, and John resigns himself to the fact that Sherlock is going to look that odd in the picture. Then Sherlock’s eyes catch on John’s and suddenly they are filled with an overwhelming amount of love. John snaps the picture quickly. Then he cuddles up next to Sherlock as he posts the two pictures.

Sherlock's phone rings only a few seconds later. "Mycroft," he whispers to John.

John answers it, and puts it on speaker, "Hey, Mycroft you're on speaker with both of us. It's a bit risky to call people in the middle of a heat isn't it?"

"I figured even my brother and  yourself would have enough discretion not to answer it if it was an indecent time," Mycroft replies, "Are the two of  you, all right? You have everything that you need?"

"Yes, thanks to you," John says.

"Good, and... without any unnecessary details, can you tell me if everything went well?"

"Yes," John says looking at his new  bond mate , "It was better than I thought a first heat could be, even in my wildest dreams."

Mycroft clears his throat  in an effort to clear the  awkwardness . "Sherlock, are you even there?" 

"Yes, we are quite all right," Sherlock says.

"Good, well congratulations you two. I assume Mummy is arranging some sort of bonding ceremony and honeymoon for you," Mycroft says.

"We don't need any of that," John says.

"Yes, I’m sure she’s planning something as we speak," Sherlock interrupts.

John tilts his head curiously.

"A party sounds dreadful, but I'd do it for you. I would not be opposed to a week in France," Sherlock says.

John snuggles against him, and gives him a peck on the cheek, "That sounds lovely, but we should wait for the school holiday."

"I don't think you quite understand the goal of the holiday. It is to get out  of school."

"Oh, John understands quite well how you think, but he also knows how valuable and education is, and he isn't going to let you waste your chance at it," Mycroft says.

"All right, we're going to do all kinds of heat related things now, so we'll have to let you go so neither of us gets traumatized."

Mycroft chuckles, and then says, "Congratulations again."

John's phone has pinged several times during the conversation, and he was ignoring it, but after  hanging up on Mycroft he checks the messages. "There are a lot of people who are excited for us," he says.

Sherlock reads the messages on his phone over his shoulder. "Are you going to tell any of those people that we're not actually bonded?"

"We are bonded," John says looking at the other boy in confusion.

"You know what I mean,"  Sherlock says with a dramatic eye roll.

"Our sex life is none of their business, and that would be true whether we were having it or not," John says.

"I feel a bit like I'm lying to people," Sherlock says, "They will assume when they hear that we are bonded."

"Well, that's their problem. We are bonded right? And we're both happy with our situation, right?" Sherlock nods on both accounts, "All right,  then the rest of it is no one's business. What we are doing is not a lie. Our life, our love, that's the truth!"

"Thank you," Sherlock says.

"I should get dressed, salvage whatever part of the day we can," John says.

"No," Sherlock says wrapping his arms, and legs around him to keep him in the bed, "If ever there was a good excuse for a lie in this was it."

"Sherlock, we've moved past lie in. It's three in the afternoon," John objects.

"Will you stay in bed if I go fetch you some food?" Sherlock asks.

"Sure, but you are going to have to get me something other than power bars this time."

"Yeah, I'll have Mummy make you something," Sherlock says standing up.

John cuddles back into the bed, and can't help but think that Sherlock was right about them having a nice proper lie in.


	12. Chapter 12

Greg looks up from the brochures, "Are you sure about all of  this? "

"If you don't like any of these villages, we can find somewhere else, but it's got to be a bit remote, " replies .

"Hey, I'm all for the idea of spending the better part of the year in a beach side resort, but it really doesn't  seem like the kind of thing that you would like," Greg says looking intensely at the other man.

"It isn't me, and that's very much the point, " declares . This description doesn't seem to give Greg any hints, so sighs, "I'm not going to be myself when we are gone. I am going to keep on being me for a few more months, and then I'm going to leave my job, and I am going to leave my house, and I am going to leave myself here. I'll come back for myself after."

"You're still yourself, even though you are pregnant."

"It doesn't feel like it, " says closing his eyes in obvious pain, "I'm having a lot of dysphoria lately, more so than I had when I didn't even understand myself. I can't be myself; I can't do that while I am carrying your baby," at Greg's look of alarm he continues, "Something I very much want to continue to do. It will be easier if I just make an alter ego, some form of what I could have been if I was  actually born an omega. I'm going to pretend to be that person for a while, because that is the only way that I am able to find peace."

"I don't know if this is the right thing to say, but I am going to  miss. "

"Maybe sometimes, when we are at home with our family,  maybe can be there, " replies .

"So, you're actually going to have a different name?" Greg asks.

"Different name, and I'm going to wear traditional omega clothing as well, " says .

Greg does a bit of a double take, "I can't even really imagine that. No, honestly, I  feel like it would make more sense for me to dress up as an omega."

"Honestly, I'm already getting to the point where it's either that or start buying clothes for people who are overweight, " says , "I think I'm starting to show, and the only reason I've been getting away with it is because of my waistcoat. Posh clothes are very forgiving. So, we really have to pick the place that we are going to live for the next few months."

"This one," Greg says handing him a picture of a cabin. "It's rustic, and the village is small, but not the kind of small where everyone is going to be concerned with everyone else's business all of the time."

"Good choice, " says giving him a kiss, and taking brochure to go, and make it happen. He pauses after a couple of steps.

"Is everything okay?" Greg says with concern.

"I'm fine. I've...been feeling the baby for the last couple of days, actually, " says .

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it's sort of bubbly, " says .

"Well, that's great, that's exciting!" Greg exclaims.

"It's...contributing to the  dysphoria ."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Greg says standing up, "Anything I can do?"

"Two weeks, an then we're both going to be different people. Put in your notice," Mycroft says, "I'm going to feel a whole lot better as soon as I am someone else. Do you have a preference when it comes to my name?"

"Honestly, no, I can't look at you, and come up with a traditional omega name. You're you," Greg says.

"Mycroft is my middle name. It's gender neutral. My first name is actually Quinton."

Greg chuckles a bit, "I can maybe think of you like that if I'm not looking at you when I do it," he replies.

"Do you think you can love Quinton?" Mycroft asks.

"As long as he has your  soul, I don't really care what name he goes by, or if his outward actions change. I think it will be odd, and I don't think I'll ever quite love your alter ego quite as much as I love you, but I'll love him enough," Greg says.

"I'm going to put in my two weeks, and rent the cabin now, so if you want out this is the last chance that you have to get out of it," Mycroft warns.

"I'm not backing out of this, and I am not going to leave you," Greg promises giving him a kiss on his forehead, "This is love, and this is forever."

Mycroft swallows.

"Something else going through that beautiful brain of yours?" Greg asks.

"I thought while we're there, I might want to fake a mated musk, and do a little costume make-up to fake a bond mark, as long as you are not opposed to it," Mycroft says.

"I consider us bonded. The fact that we don't do the mark so we can have more pleasure is irrelevant."

Mycroft grins at him. "Thank you."

-0-

John should have predicted it of course. Maybe he even had at some kind of an unconscious level, and that was why he was so reluctant to post on social media. 

Sixty messages already, all from his parents and the siblings who were still at home, and under their parent's thumb enough that all the messages that were from them were really from their parents. All showing excitement for the fact that he'd married  rich and begging him for money. He was a little bit impressed with the way that his siblings came up with all sorts of creative things that they needed the money for.

He knew that the kids would never see a penny of it just as completely as the kids who were begging for the money knew it.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asks. It has been almost ten hours since John woke up from the bonding nap, and they still haven't gotten out of bed, although Sherlock did help John with most of a day's worth of schooling now.

"Nothing, I'm just glad you are my family now," John says kissing Sherlock.

"Mmm, me too," Sherlock says, "I don't like sharing you with anyone."

John chuckles, "But it's different for you, because your family was already good. My family is shit."

Something finally registers in Sherlock's mind that John is trying to have a serious conversation, "What did your family do?"

John hands the phone over to him, and Sherlock listens to the messages.

"I'll tell Mummy, and we'll take care of all of it," Sherlock promises.

"No," John says shaking his head.

"Not even the one who needs ballet shoes?" Sherlocks says frowning at the messages.

"If we gave her money for that it wouldn't be used for that. My parents would just take it from her. It's a scam. I didn't share that with you, because I wanted your money. God, I didn't marry you because you were rich. I'm just sad, because my own family found out that I am bonded, and the only thing they can think about is themselves! They never cared about me. I've known that my whole life of course, but that doesn't mean that it's not about to stop hurting anytime soon."

"I'm sorry," Sherlock says gravely.

"Thank you, and I really appreciate the fact that you care about me for me. I definitely traded up with families," he says sticking his nose by Sherlock's scent gland.

" Mmm ," Sherlock says, "You smell like John again." He flips John over and scents the other boy from the tip of his head, to the bottom of his feet. It is the most amazing thing that John has ever experienced. He feels more connected with his body than he ever has before, and his connection to  Sherlock, which is always intense, is almost unbearable.

"I want to have your baby soon," John pleads.

"We're going to wait at least a year," Sherlock says, "But, it might only be the hormones, but I am looking forward to that far more than I ever thought I would."

-0-

Ever since Mycroft had become pregnant, he had been growing out his hair, but it had been plastered against his head in a way that still gave him a decidedly beta look. Now, as they are about to head out to their new life, he has let the hair go free. It's still short for an omega, but it's curly and it somehow softens his face as well. He is out of a suit and wearing a button up shirt with trousers. There are a lot of outfits that scream omega far more than what he is wearing, but it is clear that this outfit, unlike all the other ones that Mycroft has worn since transitioning has been plucked from the omega side of the store.

"If you say that I look good I am going to slap you," Mycroft says to Greg who is staring at him open mouthed.

"That thought actually never crossed my mind," Greg says. "I guess my first thought was are you okay?"

Mycroft puts his hand on his stomach. The stomach was completely hidden beneath the empire waist, but as soon as his hand touches it the bump on his belly comes into view. "I'm going to have to be. I don't want to talk or think about it too much today. Are the kids ready?"

"Mostly, you and Diana are the only ones that can get that wiggle worm that we call James into his car seat," Greg replies.

Mycroft walks out of the house looking around first to be sure that no neighbors are around to see what he is doing. He scoops James up in the dramatic fashion that usually makes the little boy giggle, but this time it makes him scream and reach for Greg. Mycroft hands the child over to Greg to calm him.

"What's wrong?" Greg asks the boy seriously.

"Stranger took me," James says with a sniff.

"No, that's Mycroft," Greg tells him.

James leans forward to catch the scent of the man, but he smells only pregnant bonded omega. Lately the pregnant has been leaking out under the beta musk, but the bonded musk is so different from the beta that the boy insists, "No."

Mycroft pulls half of his hair back to make him look like what he had the day before. James looks at him curiously. "I've changed the way that I smell, and I've changed the way that I look, but I'm still the same person."

"Still Mycroft?" James asks.

"I am, for now, but I'm going to change my name too," he says.

"Why?" Madi asks.

"I am going to pretend to be an omega for a while, while I grow a baby inside of me, but I'm not really an omega. After I've finished having a  baby, I am going to go back to being a beta."

"Mycroft come back?" James asks with a quivering lip.

"Yes, he will, but you're going to like Quinton even more. He's not going to go to work and he gets to spend all day with James."

"Love Qui?" James asks.

"Yes, Quinton loves you just as much as Mycroft does," Mycroft agrees.

"Does Quinton cook?" Madi asks with a turn up of her nose.

"He doesn't really know how, but he's going to figure it  out so his family has everything that they need."

"All right, I suppose I can put up with this joker for a while, but I will be glad when I have my Mycroft back," Madi says standing up on her tip toes. Mycroft leans his head down so that she can put a kiss on his cheek.

"Qui buckle," James insists.

"You've got it," Mycroft says walking over, and buckling the little boy into the car.

Greg grabs him just before they get into the car, "I can see through your clothing, My, I can still see you."

"I appreciate that. I really do. But I'm worried that if I don't let myself be fully Quinton for a while the Quinton and the Mycroft are going to bleed together, and I'm never going to be able to go back to just being me."

"All right," Greg agrees climbing into the car to begin their journey to a new life.

-0-

"I've set up an appointment with an  obstertrician tomorrow,"  Quintin says to Greg, "I would really appreciate if you could come with me."

"I'd love to. Is the reason you've never invited me before is part of your body dysmorphia?"

"I've actually never been before,"  Quintin says.

Greg misses the shame in the other man's voice as he asks, "You mean you've never been to _ this _ doctor before right?"

"No, I mean I couldn't bring myself to go to the doctor for the pregnancy before now."

"Jesus  Quintin ! You're halfway through the pregnancy. I don't know exactly how many appointments that you have missed, but I do know it was a lot!" Greg exclaims.

"I know it,"  Quintin mutters softly which causes Greg to regret his harsh tone.

"I'm sorry for not being understanding...help me understand," Greg says softly.

"No, you are right to be angry. I put our baby at risk, and there is no good reason for that. There is really no excuse. I've just never...most omega would have been to a gynecologist, and had doctor examine parts of their body before, but I'm not an omega, and I never have."

"I can...understand that  Quintin , but I just wish you would have asked me for help."

"What could you have done?"  Quintin snaps in annoyance. "You would have just told me that I was endangering our child, and I had to suck it up for his/her sake."

"No, I wouldn't have," Greg says. "I'm a bit annoyed at you yes, but I understand...no that's not true. I don't have a clue how difficult it must be for someone when their body does not match their head as far as gender goes. I wouldn't have pushed you into doing something that you weren't comfortable with. I can't help but wonder now though if there is  something, we could do to make it better."

"I want you there, and I want you to distract me during the parts where doctors are...places I don't want people but you to be. The part I'm most nervous about is them asking why I haven't been in sooner, particularly since I can't exactly give them the real reason."

" So, you're not even coming out to your doctor as trans?" Greg asks.

"I think if I do it's going to make me feel like a beta, and there is no way that I can do any of that feeling like a beta,"  Quintin says.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you," Greg says seriously.

"Just a few more months, and I can feel like myself again."  Quintin says closing his eyes against the agony.

-0-

"Okay," the nurse says sitting down in the chair, "We have a lot of your medical history here, but we are missing your previous pre-natal records."

"That's because there aren't any,"  Quintin says clearly.

"No records at all? You haven't been to a single doctor since you fell pregnant?" the nurse asks in shock.

Quintin shakes his head. The nurse looks from him to Greg.

"We're here today, and we're willing to go through the tests you think are necessary. Talking about it isn't going to change anything," Greg says.

"I would just like to understand so that going forward we can prevent it from happening again," the nurse says.

Quintin just shakes his head. 

"Were you thinking about  termination and changed your mind?" the nurse asks.

"No!" Greg says.

Quintin squeezes his hand, and Greg remembers with almost shock that that was a conversation that they had had long ago when they first found out about the baby. He'd completely forgotten. "That hasn't been a consideration for us for quite some time,"  Quintin says honestly.

The nurse waits for more, and when  it is clear that no more is  coming, she gives up and takes the rest of his health information without further protest.

-0-

When Greg sees Quintin flinch when the ultrasound technician squirts the gel onto his stomach, he correctly interprets what's going on. He gets between  Quintin 's growing stomach and his eyes and smiles at him.  Quintin gives him a grateful smile.

"Oh!" the technician says in surprise.

Quintin 's eyes flit to the screen with panic, and then shock, and then a smile.

"What's wrong?" Greg asks too panicked to notice the change in the other man's mood.

"Twins,"  Quintin says looking to the technician for confirmation.

"My God, really?" Greg says staring at the screen. The technician points out their heads, and Greg pretends to see them even though he really can't.

When the test is  done, they are left alone in the room for a moment.

"We would have known months ago if I hadn't avoided the doctor,"  Quintin mutters.

"What would it have changed?" Greg asks.

"We're going to need twice as much baby things now that there is going to be two of them,"  Quintin says as if his partner is particularly dense.

"I know, but we haven't even set up the nursery for one baby yet. We've got time."

"Four children, Greg, we're going to have four children."

"Are we re-thinking Madi or James?" Greg asks trying not to show how much the idea repulses him.

"Oh God no, I can't imagine giving one of them back now."

"I assume you're no less fond of the idea of giving away one of the tikes inside of your belly," Greg asks.

" Of course, I don't want to do that," then his forehead crinkles, "But the babies aren't inside of my belly, it's inside of my womb. How do you not know this?" 

Greg chuckles at him, "I am aware of the basic biology. How are you feeling about the twins?"

"Overwhelmed,"  Quintin says, "But happy. It is two kids for one pregnancy, overall, it's a pretty good deal for someone who likes the idea of having children, but not of being pregnant."

"God you are amazing, giving me two babies," Greg says giving him a kiss.

-0-

Quintin pulls open his phone, on the ride home, and turns it to speaker, "Diana, I've got some news for you. You're pregnant with twins."

"What?" Diana says.

"I'm sorry, I was trying to be all cutesy, but perhaps that just resulted in me being really unclear. I just found out that I am having twins. I'm... really excited."

"I'll say, congratulations," her voice says on the other end of the phone,

"You're okay with how this affects your family right? One fewer child for you to have."

"Yes,  Quintin , but you know if four is too many..."

"No,"  Quintin says.

"When you move back here with these little  ones, I'll be more than happy to help you out. I've never really dealt with two newborns at a time, but I have dealt with Irish twins, and you're going to need help," she says.

"Hey, don't scare my husband, we're excited," Greg says jokingly to his sister.

"Hey, how come they didn't find out about the twins until now?" Diana asks.

"This was actually my first trip to the doctor,"  Quintin admits.

"Oh," Diana says, "Well, I think I'll tell people that one of the babies was hiding behind the other one. Not that what you did was wrong," she rushes on, "I didn't mean to imply that. I'm just saying...."

"You couldn't exactly use my excuse."

"No," Diana chuckles, "I couldn't. But  Quintin , body dysmorphia isn't an excuse. It's a reason."

"Thank you,"  Quintin says with a sigh.

-0-

Since entering their new life Madi has been joining James and  Quintin in bed for cuddles each night, and Greg reads to them there.  Quintin waits until she is well snuggled in before he says, "Madi, we've got some big news for you. I'm not growing one baby. I'm actually growing two."

She blinks at him, "So which one of us are you going to send back?"

"No honey, never. You are our kids now, and forever,"  Quintin says finding tears coming to his eyes at the very idea that he would give up his children.

"But you only wanted three kids, if you wanted four you would have taken another one," she argues.

"Honey, we might have wanted three a few weeks ago, but I can assure you that we definitely want four now," Greg assures her. Then he crawls into the toddler bed which is already full of three people.

"I'm not sure this bed was meant for this many people,"  Quintin argues. 

"I'm sorry, you don't think it can handle my weight? Because I really don't think you're in any position to make that argument," Greg teases.

"Hey now!"  Quintin exclaims, "It's in very poor taste to call the person who is carrying your children fat."

Madi chuckles.

"You're stuck with us kid. Through thick and thin, now and forever," Greg says seriously.

"Oh, Madi! You want to feel one of the babies kicking?"  Quintin asks. At her nod he takes her hand and places it on his belly. 

Her eyes go wide, "That was strong!" she exclaims. She squirms down so her mouth is equal with his womb, "Hey babies, you need to be kind to your mummy."

Quintin clears his throat, "Father...I think," he says softly.

"Oh, sorry," Madi says looking up at him.

"Not your fault. I should have let you know. You can scent them if you want,"  Quintin says. Usually, siblings would have spent a lot of time scenting their unborn siblings by now, but  Quintin hadn't pushed it when Madi hadn’t showed a lot of interest in it.

She takes an experimental whiff. "It mostly smells like you. I mean...the new you."

"Well, that makes sense, because they are wrapped in me, and they are made up of half of my DNA as well,"  Quintin says stroking her hair.

"I don't have any of your DNA. I have some of Greg's because he's my uncle, but you and I are not related."

"No, but blood doesn't matter as much as love. I love you so much that it more than makes up for whatever we lack in blood," he says. 

Madi moves up to be by his head once again.

-0-

Quintin had known of course that his hips were going to disjoint. It was a normal part of pregnancy. The body preparing to push out a body (or in this case two bodies) through a spot too small to allow them through any other way. He just hadn't thought that it would happen during the only time in this whole week that Greg had left him alone. Madi was at school, and James saw him and panicked.

"Bring me my phone baby, do you know where my phone is?"  Quintin asks.

"Qui owie?” James says seriously.

"Yes, get me my phone so that we can get Greg to help us,"  Quintin insists.

James starts to cry.

"Hey, baby, please go get my  my phone. I promise it's going to be okay," he sooths, but instead James lays down and snuggles against Quintin scenting. Even though the pain is almost unbearable there is more distress coming off the toddler than from  Quintin . He starts to coo nursery rhymes to the child until he drifts off to sleep.

-0-

"Jesus,  Quintin , what happened?" Greg says dropping the shopping and rushing over to his lover.

"My hips went out of joint,"  Quintin says.

"You should have called me!" Greg exclaims.

"I didn't have my phone and asking James to get it really freaked him out,"  Quintin says.

"Well, you've got to carry your phone with you all the time from now one," Greg says.

"Thanks for the advice, but you've got to put me back into joint,"  Quintin says.

"Right, we practiced this at that pregnancy class, but it's..." Greg looks terrified.

"You cannot be cowardly now. I've already been waiting for almost two hours, and I don't want to wait even longer for a stranger to put his hand in my crotch. You are here, and you're going to do it, now,"  Quintin says with the voice that he used to command countries.

"James honey, can you go play in your bedroom?" Greg asks softly. 

" Qui owie ," he objects.

"I know, and I'm going to fix his owie, but I will be able to do this far easier if you're not around when I do."

James doesn't move.

"The sooner you go into your bedroom the sooner I can make  Quintin feel better," Greg says.

James runs out of the room, "Kiss better!" he advises.

Greg chuckles, "The kid has quite an idea actually," he whispers.

Quintin chuckles, "Maybe, later."

"Right, pain isn't sexy," Greg says positioning himself between his legs. He swings the other man's leg a bit, and then snaps it back into place.  Quintin bites the scream back for the sake of the worried toddler in the next room.

"God I'm so sorry! I hate the idea of hurting you," Greg says sounding distraught.

"You are going to have to get over that, because I've got two hips,"  Quintin says.

Tears are running down Greg’s cheek silently.

"Stop that,"  Quintin says, taking his hand. "Tears don't make it hurt less."

"I'm sorry," Greg says. This time he puts the joint back in place a lot faster.

"Good job,"  Quintin says. "I'm going to stay on the floor for a minute right now, and you're going to check on James."

"I'm a bit more worried about you right now, actually," Greg says.

"Kids his age should not be alone in a room unless they are sleeping, please?"  Quintin says. When Greg doesn't move, he sighs, "We were lucky he wanted to stay by me. He could have gotten into any kind of trouble in the last two hours, and there is nothing I could have done to stop him, nothing I could have done to protect him."

"He's fine, and he's not in danger right now," Greg assures his mate.

"Either you go check on him, or I am going to crawl over there which is not recommended right now,"  Quintin says.

"Okay, you rest, I've got the kid," Greg says kissing the other man on his forehead.

Quintin has to admit to himself that he's not surprised when James drags Greg back over to him. 

"Owie better?" the little boy asks.

"Greg did make me better, but it's going to take a little bit of time for it to be all better," Quintin says, "You can keep me company until I am rested up."

"Qui nap?" James suggests hopping up to run out of the room. Greg trails after him, and the two of them return a few minutes later with a pillow. James tries to shove the pillow under his head, but Greg stops him, "Let me do that, so I can make sure it's really gentle."

"Kay," the boy says.

-0-

By the time Madi returns home  Quintin has recovered enough to make it into the bed.

"Make sure she gets her afternoon tea," Quintin says to Greg. He knows logically that Greg has spent a lot more time taking care of children than Quintin has, but he still feels like he needs to advise his lover on how to take care of his baby.

"Can I have it here?" Madi asks.

"I wish my children knew that they didn't have to fuss over me. I really am all right," he insists.

"You always have afternoon tea with me. Then you help me with my homework. You can still do these things, right?" Madi says with worry.

"Yes, of course honey, come up here. How was your day?" 

"Better than yours I think."

"That is probably true,"  Quintin says with a chuckle.

"It really sucks to have a baby. Why would anyone do this?" Madi asks.

"Well, they are really amazing when they grow up a bit,"  Quintin says to the girl.

"It's not worth it," Madi says with decision.

"All right, so then you're not going to have children. Unless of course you change your mind, and then that will be fine too. Now, what kind of homework do you have?" he asks.

"I'm supposed to read a book," she says.

"Perfect,"  Quinton says, "Get it out."


	13. Chapter 13

"You smell mated," the alpha girl next to Sherlock says sniffing the air with displeasure.

"I am," Sherlock says.

"What? Why are you still in school?" she asks.

"The whole point of going to a school like this is that you don't have to quit your job or education just because you are married."

"How far along is your mate?" the girl presses.

"He's not pregnant," Sherlock says.

"Oh," the girl's face goes very serious, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "It's not a loss. He was never pregnant. We didn't want to be pregnant, we prevented it."

The girl blinks her eyes, "I can't imagine ever doing something so that I wouldn't have a baby. I especially can't imagine an omega who didn't care about having children."

"It's not ideal for an omega to experience a pregnancy during their first year of heats. We're actually protecting his health."

"But it's not ideal for all of the children that you could have had. It's not moral for you to avoid having children."

Sherlock stands  up and moves to another part of the room.

-0-

That night when the two of them are cuddled closely in bed, Sherlock can't help but ask him, "John, are you sorry that you aren't pregnant?"

John moves away from Sherlock's chest so he can look at him, "Are you regretting not having children right away?"

"No," he flinches, "You're going to think I'm stupid when I explain it to you. I got into a discussion with an idiot at school today. She said there was no way that an omega could ever be happy without having a baby. I was just worried..."

"I really would not have agreed if it didn't make me happy."

Sherlock lets out a breath of relief, "Good. I would hate if this marriage made you miserable."

"No Sherlock, you make me happy," John agrees.

"We should plan a honeymoon for this summer vacation," Sherlock says seriously.

"Right yeah, I would really like that."

"And maybe you should have a heat on the honeymoon, and we could...we could  make a baby," Sherlock says, "I mean, if you want. I wouldn't want you to do anything that you really didn't want to do."

John smiles, "Yeah, I think that would be enough time, although..." he sighs, "I don't know what you would be expecting after. Your mother and I were talking, and. .. she likes taking care of small children, and my education is  nowhere near what I would call finished. So..." he looks nervous.

"If you think I am one of those people who believes that an omega's only purpose is to raise children you haven't been paying attention," Sherlock says, "I'm fine with my mom helping, but you should know that I would also be fine with us getting a nanny. My family has more than enough money to take care of this if that is what you want."

"I know, but I don't want to leave my children with a stranger. If my childhood taught me anything it taught me that not everyone is as loving, and wonderful as your family. I would much rather not have kids at all than have them be hurt like I was."

"You know we had a nanny when we were younger?" Sherlock asks softly.

"What? No? Your parents seam so..."

"The people who hire nannies are not bad people, John. And they wouldn't be strangers by the time we left them with our kid. We would know them, trust them. When we had a nanny there were a lot of children at home. Enough that it actually took three people to do the actual parenting. Mummy wanted all of her children to have love, and it wouldn't have been possible for her to read to, play with, or God even feed all of us when we were that small. I honestly think we should either spread out our children or hire help. for the kids."

"That was well thought out," John says, "I'm going to think about it, seriously."

"I don't want you to lose yourself when we have kids either. It happens to way too many omegas, and I couldn't stand if it happened to you, because you are such an amazing person. I want you to still be you. My parents always made a point of having something outside of the kids, even when things were crazy with us kids."

"I get that your mom has that cooking class, but what does your dad have?"

"Well, he used to do some woodworking, but he dropped it when he went to work. He thought that would work just as well, but I'm not sure that he was right about it. He was happier when he wasn't working."

"I think...not right away. Maybe not even before the kids went to school, but I would really like to work one day," John says looking seriously at Sherlock as if he were certain that Sherlock was going to tell him that his ideas were crazy, and they would never work.

"Yes, that's right," Sherlock says, "Even if I have to stay home in order to make that work. Okay, and for that to happen, or at least for you to have an interesting job...well, sweetie, you're going to have to keep working on your education. If you get pregnant this summer, you are going to have to promise me that you're not going to let that get in the way of your learning."

"I won't," John says, "After all I have a lot of practice with  childcare while learning," he points out.

"I know," Sherlock says leaning forward and scenting him. 

"When I'm pregnant, are you going to talk to the baby in my stomach?" John asks.

"Of course, fetus learn before they are even born. Besides, it is critical to your health that you are properly scented each day during your pregnancy."

"Okay, somehow that is both sweet, and too scientific to be sweet," John says.

"How could something be 'too' scientific?" Sherlock says.

"It would be better if you just wanted to do it, because you loved me," John says, "Or the future hypothetical baby."

"That wouldn't be better, actually, because then if I got annoyed with you one  day, I would be unlikely to do what the baby needs," Sherlock says with a scowl, "If I'm doing it because it is a basic need of the family than I will be certain to do it all of the time."

"I guess I don't even understand why you would care about the needs of the family if you didn't love them," John says.

"I do love you," Sherlock says seriously looking at John with confusion on his face as to how he could ever imagine that he didn't.

"You know that my children are going to probably be so intellectual that no one will be able to tolerate them?" Sherlock says.

"If our kids are like  you, they are going to be everything that I could ever want," John says giving him a kiss on the tip of his nose.

-0-

"Greg," Mycroft whispers, "I don't mean to alarm you, but I'm in labor."

The other man jumps out of bed, "are you sure?" he asks frantically.

"Pretty sure," Mycroft says, "I've been timing the contractions.”

“How long have you  _ been _ in labor?” Greg asks in shock.

"Three hours," Mycroft replies flinching a second before Greg's reaction comes.

"Why didn’t you wake me?"

"Because labor is long, and stressful, and you will lose enough sleep in the days to come without me robbing you  of more ," Mycroft says reasonably.

"I hate the thought of you being in pain all of this time, alone," Greg says miserably.

"I wasn't alone, you were right there beside me. Now, I didn't wake you up just so we could chat. I think we'd better put the cover on the bed now."

"Right!" Greg says, "Are  your hips still in place, or are we going to have to do some sort of a transfer?"

Mycroft stands up, and Greg runs over to the dresser where the waterproof cover has been stored in preparation for this event. "I woke you up early enough so that you wouldn't have to run," Mycroft tells him.

"After I get this on the  bed, I'm going to call your mother," Greg tells him, "She'll be livid if she misses it."

"I'd be livid! I don't intend on having birth with either a stranger or no omega coach, thank you very much, but it's quite all right, because she and John are almost here."

"Wait? So, you woke up in the middle of the night in labor, and called your mom, but you didn't wake me?" Greg says sounding wounded.

"I called on both of you soon enough so that you could be there for me when I needed you. If I needed you sooner, I would have called on you sooner," Mycroft says.

"What do you need now? Should I boil some water?" Greg says once he's tucked the sheet into place.

Mycroft chuckles, "We're not quite to the cutting the umbilical cord stage yet, actually. It would be nice if you could measure my dilation."

"Right," Greg says. He'd practiced this in the class, but somehow hadn't actually pictured himself doing it at the time. He realizes that his mate is wearing different clothes than he was last night, and that these clothes were carefully chosen for easy access. It's still weird for him to see Mycroft wearing an omega nightgown.

He lifts the skirt up in order to examine, "I think like an inch?"

"We're using metric, my dear," Mycroft says with a sigh, "And an actual ruler please," he says handing it down.

"Five centimeters," Greg says.

"Good, I'm progressing quite well," Mycroft says. 

Just then Greg notices a supply of ice chips, towels, and baby blankets. "You've been preparing," he says in surprise.

"I feel quite  nesty actually, " Mycroft says, "Can you  scent me?"

"Right of course," Greg says, "We should have started with that, because it eases the pain of labor!"

"Don't be in such a rush to get everything done. We've got the rest of these children's lives. besides, I was definitely scenting you while you were sleeping."

"Good," Greg says moving carefully over his body not touching him.

"I'm not made of glass, you can touch me with more than your hormones," Mycroft breaths.

"I don't really feel like you are mine right now," Greg says trying to explain in a way that isn't going to hurt the other man's feelings. 

Luckily, Mycroft understands, "I do pretty much belong to the twins right now, don't I? You should touch my stomach then."

"Are they kicking up a storm, all excited with the idea of breaking free?"

Mycroft flinches at the unfortunate choice of words, "No, but my stomach is all hard with labor."

Greg puts his hand on his  stomach and is surprised by exactly how rock hard the stomach is even though he was expecting it to be quite hard. "Does it hurt?"

Mycroft chuckles, "Did you seriously just ask me if labor hurt?"

"I'm sorry," Greg says laughing at himself, "I know it hurts of course, but only when the contractions come or all the time?"

"It's more like discomfort between them actually," Mycroft says. 

He stands up, "I think I'll go on a walk now, if you are willing to help me."

"What?" Greg says in alarm. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm restless, and it might make the labor progress," Mycroft defends.

"Your legs could go out of joint at any time!"

"I'm not planning to walk a mile. I'm  just planning to walk around the house."

"I don't want you falling on those babies, Mycroft, and pulling you back into bed would be something difficult at this point in the pregnancy.

Mycroft considers seriously, "I really don't want to have these babies on the  floor and throwing out the back of the person who is going to be doing half the  childcare is really quite foolish."

Greg lets out a  long-relieved sigh, "Oh thank goodness," and then he nuzzles down to kiss his partner.

"I really appreciate the fact that you've gone a bit calmer now," Mycroft admits, "It's easier for me to be calm. I know it's just hormones, and I shouldn't pay any attention to them, but I honestly feel quite frightened right now."

"Do you want us to go to the hospital?" Greg asks, "We can change the birth plan just like that," he says snapping his fingers.

"No, it's not really that," Mycroft sighs, not quite sure of what he is saying, "I'm not really afraid of something going wrong, I suppose, I guess the going right is terrifying enough for me."

"I can understand  that " Greg says, "You are going to push two humans out of you. I'm scared, and I'm not the one who is going to be doing the pushing."

"I worry I'm not strong enough, because I am not a real omega," Mycroft admits in a whisper.

"Well, I'm not about to deny that omegas are strong, but I am going to say that they are not the only strong ones," Greg says, "You are strong, and you have me to help you, and soon you are going to have your mother and John too."

Mycroft's fingers clutch to Greg's arm, "You're going to have to leave soon."

"No, I'm not going to leave you when you are in labor," Greg insists.

"You have to get Madi ready for school."

"You're kidding right? I don't think she should go to school today."

"If she  stays, she is going to want to fuss over me, and I don't want her in the room. Honestly, it's bad enough that James will be here, and I'm hoping that I can convince John to take him somewhere, at least for part of the day.

"I don't feel comfortable with you being alone in the house in labor, Mycroft. I've got no problem running Madi to school later when your mom is here to stay with you, but honestly, if she misses part of the day because her father is in LABOR that's a valid excuse."

Mycroft smiles, "Father. I liked to be called Madi's father."

"Well, you are her father," Greg says running a soothing hand through the other man's hair thinking his reaction to the term is about being a parent to Madi and missing the way it is about gender.

"Are you going to tell the school that though? When you call them to tell them Madi is going to be late?"

"I'll tell them whatever you want me to, honey," Greg says earnestly. 

"Best go with her mum. We're still going to be here for a while, and I don't want to make things hard on Madi with everyone knowing she's got a transgender parent. I'll pass as omega when I'm here, and then we'll move, and I'll pass as a beta, and hopefully the amount of people who ever put it together will be few."

"I'm okay with that plan as long as it's not even a tiny bit inspired by you being ashamed of who you are, or of you thinking that Madi is ashamed of who you are."

Mycroft shakes his head, and then doubles over in a flinch. Greg is so paralyzed by fear that he doesn't even realize what is going on right away. Mycroft looks at the clock.

When it's over Greg says, "That was a contraction, right? What was I supposed to do?"

"It's okay, I timed it."

"Timed it!" Greg says in fury, "I want to know what I could have done in order to make them stop! I don't just want to time things that are ripping you into a million pieces."

"It wouldn't be a good thing if you could stop the contractions from coming," Mycroft reminds him, "If you could it would mean that our babies would never be born, and I'm not for staying pregnant forever, let me tell you." be about to give birth to twins, and I wouldn't have two spectacular kids sleeping in this house, and I would not be in a relationship with you, which would honestly be quite the pity, because all of this is the best thing that has ever  happened to me.

Greg continues to look distressed and Mycroft pulls him  in and holds him. 

"Shh! I'm going to be okay. Birth is a natural thing that humans have been doing for billions of years. My body was built for this, even if I am not an omega, my womb is. Okay? Nothing is going to go wrong."

"But it is going to hurt you, and you never wanted this, and the only reason that all of this is happening to you is because of me. If it wasn't for me all of this pain would not be happening to you."

"Yes, and despite that, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Greg grins, even though his eyes are still moist with liquid that wants to become a tear.

"I don't want you to go wishing it away. Now, even if we're not getting Madi up for school can you go see if they are awake? If they are  provide them with some electronic  babysitter ?"

"Okay," Greg says putting the phone in Mycroft's hand, "You holler if you need me, and if I don't here you right away you do that trick where you call your own number,  and then hang up, and call again so I know to come, and help you, okay?"

"Okay," Mycroft says giving his partner a smile which shows him to be far calmer than he really is.

-0-

Greg was unable to convince Madi to stay away from Mycroft. Even after he told her quite frankly that she was far more likely to be in the way than to be helpful.

"I'm going to be smart enough to stay out of the way."

"We're going to need you to watch James," he says hating to use that bit of guilt, but he's desperate at this point.

"Well, he's not awake yet, and by the time he is John and Grandma might be here," she says bursting into the bedroom.

"Madi, I'm going to be in pain," Mycroft admits, "And I don't want you to see that. It's going to be twice as hard for me if I know that you  have to see that. Okay? So, you'll stay away for me?"

"I've always made things better before," Madi reminds him climbing up on the bed, "And I'm going to make it better now."

"Honey, it's not a pleasant thing. It's not the sort of thing for children," Mycroft says again.

"Well, it's going to happen one way or the other isn't it? Someday I'll have to get mated, and I'll have to have children, and then I will have to hold my omega while they go through this."

"And Greg is holding me while it happens to me. That's enough. Madi if I really needed  you, I would ask for you to stay, but I'm okay. Greg has it covered. You can go get ready for the day, or you play, okay. John will be here soon to take care of you properly."

"Right! I should take care of you! Do you want me to make you some breakfast?" 

"Oh honey, I don't really feel very much like eating actually, but you should go get yourself something to eat. Do you think you can pour yourself a bowl of cereal like a nice little grown-up, now?"

Madi knows it is a bit of a trick, it is true, but she goes along with it anyway. Scurrying off to make herself some food.

-0-

Madi is cuddled against his side when Mycroft's waters break. 

"Did you just pee yourself?" she asks with a giggle.

"No honey, it's part of having a baby. I'm going to get up and take a shower."

"I'll help you yeah?" Greg asks.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, you go ahead, and change a blanket. Then you can check on James.

"Please, I would feel a whole lot more comfortable if I could at least be in the bathroom while you're in the shower," Greg says looking pale.

"Yeah, okay, and maybe we'll do a bath. Then if my hips go  out, I'll already be laying down," Mycroft agrees.

"I can change the sheets, and check on the baby," Madi says suddenly feeling very grown-up because the situation needed to her to be.

"Thank you," Greg says seriously.

-0-

Mycroft ends up being rather grateful for Greg's help in the bath. He has several contractions, one when he is getting out, and there is no way he could have remained standing unless he'd had a chance to cling to Greg.

"My hip his hurting," Mycroft warns. 

"I can carry you," Greg offers. 

"We're not quite there yet, but let's hurry to bed, huh?"

The first hip does disjoint when they are two steps away from the bed, and Mycroft half falls half gets into it.

A contraction  hits before Mycroft gets fully in the bed, and Mady walks in when he is still trying to cope with that. Her face is concerned, but she doesn't say anything.

"James woke up when you were in the tub. He wouldn't stop screaming even when I tried to give him food, but then Grandma came, and she got him to stop crying."

"Oh good, please go, and get her!" Mycroft says desperately trying not to cry, and Madi hustles out of the room.

"Hold me," Mycroft says reaching his hands out to his husband, "All of this time you've had to act like a midwife, but now my mom is here, and you can be my husband. Please, hold me!"

"Okay," Greg says crawling into bed so he can sit behind Mycroft. Mycroft leans back against his partner's chest. 

"I'm tired all ready and the worse part hasn't even started yet," Mycroft says in a voice of despair.

"I know, honey, I know. Is there anything I can do? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

"Nothing, just be here with me," Mycroft says.

Mrs. Holmes walks into the room just then, "Oh honey, I'm sorry I missed so much of your labor. How are we doing?"

"He's pretty tired," Greg says.

Mrs. Holmes moves the blanket aside, "Oh, no wonder, you're tired. We're close, Mycie."

"I can't be, one of my hips hasn't gone out of joint!" Mycroft says with alarm.

"Well, if it doesn't happen  soon, I can always do it manually," his mother says.

Mycroft whines in terror.

"Oh now honey, there is no need to go worrying about that at least not yet. It's going to happen. The baby is almost crowning."

"God, I can't imagine you've been through this fourteen times," Mycroft says almost crying. Then he starts crying in earnest, "I can't believe that I am going to go through this twice. I can't do it. Mummy, I change my mind about this. I can't do it. Omegas can, but I'm not an omega."

His mother  tutts at him, "You are stronger than an omega, my boy. If you were weak you would have listened when  all of those people thought they knew who you were, but you didn't listen. No, you stood right up, and you told us who you were. That is strength, and you've got more than enough strength to go through this even though this.”

Mycroft yells as his other leg goes out of joint.

"Is Mycroft all right?" Madi asks standing in the doorway again.

"Out, child!" Mrs. Holmes says with authority. When she isn't immediately  obeyed, she adds, "Oy! If you can't listen to your grandmother without knowing why than I am just going to have to have you leave the house entirely. John will take you and your brother out of the house, possibly for the whole day. Now if you are a good girl you can stay, and as soon as this baby is here you can come in and see your papa again."

"Okay," Madi says, "But he isn't my papa."

Mycroft feels a punch in the stomach at those words which is even more intense than a contraction.

"He's Daddy, and Greg is Papa," the little girl says leaving.

Mycroft gasps a  little and holds onto his stomach as an actual contraction comes.

"Now baby, I know you are eager to enter this world, but that doesn't mean that you need to cause a whole bunch of pain. Come now little one, just take a breath, and be patient."

"I think I need to start pushing."

His mother looks again. "Yes, my son. It's time. You go  ahead and push the next time you contract."

The next few minutes are filled with screaming and crying, including a few tears from Greg, when at last a baby girl slips into the world. 

"Oh now," Mrs. Holmes coos, "I know the light is bright. It's okay though. Grandma's got you," she wraps her in a towel before handing her to her son, "Quite right, you should have your Mummy right now." She flinches, "I'm sorry. Your Daddy. I didn't mean to misgender you son."

"I can understand why that would be easy to do right now," he says holding his screaming baby. "Oy, she's beautiful."

"You’ll want to hand that baby to that mate of yours so you can concentrate on helping the other one  join the world." his mother prompts gently.

"No," Mycroft says holding her tight.

"Right, I forgot all about the hormones. Don't worry love, no one is going to take your baby from you."

Mycroft knows he's ridiculous to even think it, but that doesn't stop him from holding the infant closer to his heart. He feels the pressure again, when the contraction hits  him, he pushes again. Before the next one hits, he gives into the urge to scent his little daughter. He starts crying.

"Honey, you can't do that again until you've got this one out. You are going to close yourself up."

"But she needs me!" Mycroft pleads, "She stopped crying when I scented her, and she needs to bond with me."

"This one needs you too," his mother says making eye contact with him, knowing that the hormones have already taken a large part of his mind.

Mycroft nods, and at the next push he feels another head and shoulders slip out of his body.

"Good job son," she coos at him.

Mycroft tries to stem his panic as he watches his mother wrap the newborn in a towel. He wants to scream at her to give his baby over.

She gives him the child, and encourages him, "Go ahead, and scent them now dear."

Mycroft goes through a very complete scenting, and even though it seems excessive to the other people in the room, no one is willing to step in, and tell him to stop. Before long Madi is standing at the door. "I heard them cry a bit ago, so I thought I might be allowed to come in," she says timidly.

"I don't know if we're quite ready for you," Mrs. Holmes says carefully. 

"Don't chase away my cub," Mycroft says still possessive.

Madi looks at Greg alarmed.

"Yeah, he's mostly hormones right now, but it's okay. As long as he's recognizing you as his cub he's not going to snap at you for getting close to the babies. But you don't have to come in."

"And she can't stay long," Mrs. Holmes says, "You should nurse before too long to help yourself recover," she tells her son.

Madi approaches close to them but takes a step back in horror when she sees them. "What's wrong with them?" she exclaims.

"They are fine!" Mycroft exclaims clearly offended.

"The blood is normal, dear," Mrs. Holmes says.

"Ew," Madi says, but she looks at them again, trying to see through the blood. "I guess they might be cute when the blood is gone."

"Scent them, they are your siblings," Mycroft encourages her.

She leans  forward, and breathes in the scent of the fresh newborns as well as the faint metallic scent of blood. The babies shift their noses to scent her back.

Greg's heart clenches, "I know you don't want me to touch them, and I won't unless you tell me too, but please, Mycroft. They are my babies!"

"Sit down on the bed," Mycroft commands.

Greg obeys, and Mycroft shifts his son into Greg’s arms. Greg weeps as he brings the little boy up for a scenting. "He's perfect," Greg says with gratitude.

Mycroft smiles, "He is, and so is she. We can switch if you're ready for it."

"Yeah," Greg says as the new parents carefully switch the children around. 

"If you don't want to be here when I nurse, you should leave now," Mycroft tells Madi.

The poor girl practically runs out of the room causing her parents to chuckle.

"I know I was a bit lost in protective hormones back there," Mycroft says, "And I'm going to have more hormones rushing through my body in a few minutes, so if I ask you to hand that baby back, don't be slow about it."

"I could do it now," Greg offers.

"I've never nursed before, and it would be a lot easier to do with only one of them."

"When you were out of it," Greg says, "You...you didn't  seem to recognize me as their sire."

"He didn't like me holding them either," Mrs. Holmes points out. "Sometimes someone who has given birth won't let anyone touch the kids, even the sire or their kin. It's nothing to feel bad about."

Mycroft allows his son to begin eating, and grips onto Greg's hand at the first suck.

"Does it hurt?" Greg asks in concern. 

"It just feels really weird," Mycroft says with a crinkle of his nose.


	14. Chapter 14

The second that  both of the babies had their belly buttons tied, were fed, and washed Mycroft drifts off to sleep. "Should we wake him up, and do something about the bedding?" Greg asks in alarm.

"Oh goodness no! That poor child is going to be lacking enough sleep shortly without us adding on to it," Mrs. Holmes says with exasperation.

Instead, Greg starts to reach for one of the twins, but his hand is slapped away by his mother-in-law. "Don't you know better than to wake up a sleeping baby?" she hisses in a whisper.

Greg makes a little whine.

"Trust me when I tell you that you'll have enough time to hold those children before it is all said and done." Mrs. Holmes says, "You could do with some sleep as well," Greg looks with horror at the bloodied bed. "On the guest bed of course,” she adds.

"You've been up a lot of the night too. You should sleep on the guest bed."

"All right then, but you'd better go lay down on the couch then. Your babies, and your mate are going to need you in a few hours, you've got to be the best you can be for them."

"Thank you," Greg says, "For being here, for everything. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"There is  nowhere that I would  rather be," Mrs. Holmes says giving him a quick hug.

-0-

Mycroft wakes up to the crying of a baby, and even when he gets one child in his arms being  nursed he feels like a limb has been cut off him. He picks up the other twin, but even that is not enough. Greg walks into the room to check on them and is about to leave when Mycroft's frantic eyes stop him dead in his steps. "I feel like I need my children here, right now. It's...unbearable. Are they asleep?"

"James woke up from a nap a bit ago, and John has made him and Madi lunch. She refused to go to school, and by the time someone could take her the day was half done anyway," Greg says, "Do you think we can clean up the bed a bit before we do that?"

Mycroft nods. "I'm pretty sure my legs are ready to go back in."

"Okay, I'll go get your mom," Greg offers quickly. 

"I would much rather you did it," Mycroft says with a bit of alarm.

"Okay, right now, or did you want to finish giving them their dinner first?"

"I just gave birth to twins, we are going to have to learn to multi-task," Mycroft says smiling.

Greg helps his mate with his legs, and passes the babies back and forth, burping the babies when Mycroft is done feeding them. He lays the two of them in the Moses basket, and Greg helps to change the bedding around him.

Mycroft asks for a change in clothing, and Mycroft tentatively asks for his beta pajamas, looking at Greg carefully for a reaction. The only one he gets is a wide grin from his mate, and a, "I'm glad you feel more like yourself."

"Is it silly to wear this already?"

"I think it would be pretty silly for you not to wear whatever you were most comfortable when you've just given birth," Greg says with a smile.

"Good, please get me all my babies," Mycroft says bringing the twins out of their baskets.

-0-

Madi runs into the room, but at Greg's "careful" she pulls up short before slamming into Mycroft. She climbs gently into the bed, "Will a hug hurt?" she asks.

"No, I really want a hug and scenting," he says. Madi complies, but James is hanging back near the door.

"What's wrong buddy?" Greg asks.

"Babies stomach?"

"No, the babies are not in Mycroft's stomach anymore. They came out so they can meet her new big brother. Would you like to go meet them?"

James shakes his head, he's clearly overwhelmed by the smell of the newborns even from across the room, and it clicks that he's not recognizing them as kin. Rivalry between siblings can already be bad, and Mycroft can't imagine how much worse it would be if there was not a familiar bond between them.

"Why don't you go scent Mycroft," he says hoping that will prove to the little boy that Mycroft is still going to love him, and take care of him, even with the new additions to their family.

"He smells wrong," James says with alarm.

"Buddy, you remember how I used to smell different before we moved?" Mycroft asks. James shakes his head, and Mycroft is not really surprised considering how young he is. "Well, I used to smell like a beta, and then I started smelling like a pregnant omega. Right  now, I smell like an omega who just gave birth."

"Milk!" James exclaims.

"That's right, and I'll smell like that for a couple of months, and then I am going to go back to smelling like a beta again. I'm still the same person though, and I love you just as much as I did before. Okay? Can you please come up here, and have a cuddle? I think both of us would be a whole lot happier."

James nods his head and climbs up on the bed. Mycroft throws his arm around the  child and leans forward to take a smell of him without making it that the little boy  has to scent him as well. "I love you," Mycroft says with contentment now that he's got all four of his children in the bed with him. He feels like this moment is almost perfect, but something is missing. "Greg," he says. Greg continues to stand by the door. "Come on, I want our whole family to be in one bed together," he pleads.

Greg smiles, and lays down on the edge of it so gently that the bed doesn't even move. His newborn daughter scrunches up her face at him.

"Sorry," he tells her, “Is the smell a bit off to you, little one?”

Mycroft hands the girl over so that she can get adjusted to her father’s scent while he focuses on scenting James.

She cries, and Greg tries to hand her back.

"No, baby girl, that's not how we get our way in this family. He's your Papa, and you're as well off with him as you are with me. At least when you're not hungry." 

She stares at Greg wide eyed,  almost as if she understood the words, and he grins at her. "They are going to need names," Greg points out. He'd brought it up a few times during the pregnancy, but Greg had found Mycroft strangely traditional in the idea that a child should not be named until you had seen them.

"Cooper, and Audrey," he says with authority.

Greg rolls the words over his lips a few times before he nods, "Yeah, that will do."

"Coo," James says laughing as the baby coos.

When the adults don't laugh the toddler puts his hands on his hips, and shouts, "Coo!"

That causes the baby to cry, and James hides his face in embarrassment. "It's okay baby," Mycroft says rubbing the boy's back as he soothes the baby. "You were right, he was saying his name, and that was pretty cool."

"Scared baby," James says.

"Yeah, you did, but it's not really your fault. Babies are very easy to scare."

James, confident that Mycroft isn't mad at him, settles down between them again.

-0-

"We're here on our honeymoon," Sherlock says with confidence, and much to John's annoyance at a volume which draws the attention of the entire room.

"Congratulations," the hotel clerk says looking nervously at John, clearly analyzing the boy for signs that he might be about to go into heat at any moment.

John blushes, "We were actually bonded two heats ago, but we didn't really have time to get away then. We're both students you see."

"Ah yes, those modern relationships do push the important things out of the way a bit, don't they? It's good you're taking time away now to properly care for your omega. It's no wonder you were unable to get him pregnant the first time. All that energy which should have been going to his womb was wasted on his brain."

Sherlock bristles in a way that let's John know he's about to start a fight, but he backs of when he feels John's hand on his elbow.

"Take good care of your omega now," the man says with a wink and he hands over the key."

"He's a an ignorant, pompous..." Sherlock begins.

"And you telling him all of that that wouldn't have convinced him of anything, except that he was right about you. He'd have thought to himself, see what happens when you let those uppity fertiles get ideas."

"He's still WRONG," Sherlock says in annoyance.

"Yes, and it doesn't matter, because we have some time to relax," John says taking the key from Sherlock and turning the lock before the other man can argue more.

The door swings open to a room with a giant bed, and a hot tub. 

"I thought you confirmed that it was going to be a sweet, you know so we would have a door between us," John says trying not to let his voice shake.

"I did, but that man must have changed it when he found out that we were celebrating our bonding. He probably thinks he's doing us a favor."

" So, what you are telling me is this never would have happened if you hadn't been bragging," John says.

"It's  not a big deal, we've shared a bed many times, including during part of your last heat."

"But there is no door, Sherlock. No walls. You are going to be in the same room as me for my entire heat."

"So?" Sherlock asks.

" So, you would have to be in the room with me the whole time! You can't exactly hide in the bathroom all night!"

"I didn't plan to, but I fail to see what the big deal is about me being in the same room as you," Sherlock says again.

"Sherlock, I don't want you to watch me masturbate!" John blurts.

Sherlock tilts his head at him, "Why not, from my understanding that is a pretty typical activity for a bonded couple to engage in together."

"Well, we're not a typical bonded couple though, are we?" John asks in exasperation.

" So, you're saying your unwilling to have your heat in the same room as me, because I'm asexual."

John sighs again, "Yes Sherlock, because it's embarrassing, and private."

"But you wouldn't be embarrassed by it if I wanted to watch you?" Sherlock asks.

"I don't know. I guess I would be less embarrassed if you were doing it too."

"I will be doing it," Sherlock points out, "Because you're going to require my sperm."

"Right, but... it doesn't mean the same thing."

"Would you be less embarrassed if it was me touching you instead of you touching yourself?" Sherlock asks.

"What?" John squeaks in shock.

"I've done some research on a variety of sexual acts lately and find that I would not be totally opposed to helping you find the release that you are going to need when you are in your heat."

"You don't have to do that," John says.

Perhaps if Sherlock had known enough to lie it would have  gone well from there, but instead of saying a simple, "I want to," he says a far more honest, "I don't mind."

John sighs, "This is not the sort of thing that people should do begrudgingly."

"Just because I don't enjoy sex myself doesn't mean that I am bothered by it. I'm not. I would feel no different about manually bringing you to orgasm than I would feel about cleaning my room or doing dishes, and I'm sure it would mean more to you than that," Sherlock offers. “Not to mention it would take less effort.”

"But you don't do any of those things. Your mom is always nagging you to do your chores or clean up after yourself."

"I know, but I would do it for you," Sherlock says.

"That's actually really sweet," John says leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. "But it's not necessary."

"I bet I could bring you satisfaction faster than you could yourself. In fact, we could do away with the entire baster part of the plan if you wanted."

"What?" John asks, "You can't be saying..." he whispers, even though there is clearly no need, "You can't be saying that you would be willing to have sex with me, can you?"

"Yes," Sherlock says.

"But you...you're asexual."

"Regardless."

"I couldn't do that. It would be taking advantage of you."

"It's not if I'm asking you to do it," Sherlock says. "Honestly, it would be less work that way. My arm usually gets sore just getting myself off, imagine how bad it would be getting both of us off! I'll be a bit bored, and it's not something I could tolerate nightly, but once in a while, when you're in heat I wouldn't mind."

"God I probably shouldn't say yes," John says, "But we are out of town, and there is only one room. You're starting to smell like pre-heat," Sherlock says.

John blinks at him, not sure if that comment is a good or bad thing coming from an asexual. Sherlock pulls John’s collar away so he can better smell the scent gland.

"God...can I lick it?" Sherlock whispers in a way that causes a shiver to run down his partner’s spine.

"Yessss," John hisses.

Sherlock's lips are upon him in a second, and his tongue flips out to taste. 

"Oh Jesus," John says with his knees going so week that Sherlock  has to wrap his arms around him to support him. 

"The name is Sherlock, and I'm not quite a deity," he teases.

"You're going to bring on my heat early," John warns.

"Right," Sherlock says pulling away. "We should go, and sight see before  your heat is brought on."

"I'm not already too far gone?" John asks.

"I don't think you'd even smell like a heat if I didn't know you as well as I do," Sherlock declares.

"I like that you like my smell," John says.

Sherlock leans forward for a second to smell him, breathing softly at the intense smell. 

"We could stay in," John offers.

"You've never been to France before, it wouldn't be fair for you," Sherlock argues.

"I like you more than I like traveling," John retorts.

Sherlock shoves his nose in his neck than pulls away. "No! Dinner first. You can't be in Paris without dinner. I won't allow it. Then we can stop by the  Eiffel Tower on the way back."

"I would not mind a kiss at the top of that," John says.

-0-

John is already buzzing when he returns to the hotel room, and he hasn't had enough heats to know if it is because of his heat, or because of the romantic evening. He knows that he can't ask for the favor that Sherlock offered, at least not yet. He would love to have a wank in the bathroom, if he wasn't so sure Sherlock wouldn’t hear.

He debates a  shower but doesn't want to do anything to  lessen the smell that Sherlock is clearly enjoying. He hurries to get dressed so Sherlock will not suspect him of the act he avoided.

Then he's in Sherlock's arms, and Sherlock is licking at his bond mark, nipping him. "You can bite it again," John tells him.

"It's unnecessary," Sherlock objects, "It would cause you pain."

"I am asking for the pain," and then it comes, along with a bit of blood, less this time than when the bite was first made, because of the scar tissue. The orgasm the bite causes is less intense than the one when they bonded, but still enough.  Especially when John was expecting nothing tonight. 

Sherlock licks up the blood, and then nuzzles him, "You smell even better now," he whispers.

"I'm going to smell even better when I'm full of your pup," John promises, and Sherlock finds himself looking forward to something he never thought tht he would.


	15. Chapter 15

This wasn't exactly what John had pictured when he first learned about mating, all those years ago. He'd only been eight when he heard about it for the first time, and it had sounded terrifying. He'd certainly not pictured it as the gift that it now was, and he'd never imagined that he'd be held so careful, and so gently by his lover.

He'd also never imagined the way it would result in him  crying and pulling away from his lover in terror.

"I'm sorry John," Sherlock says literally sitting on his hands so that he could keep himself from reaching out, and trying to comfort him, because he knows that he would startle him.

"I'm sorry," John says feeling the tears run down his face. "I didn't want it to happen like this."

"I didn't either, John, what can I do? Do you want me to leave? I can find something to do in Paris for a few hours, or even find my own room if you want," he offers.

"No," John says, "I still want to."

"No, you don't," Sherlock says with a shake of his head. "It's okay if you don't want to have sex, and I'm sorry that I pushed it. Sex was not part of our agreement when we got married, and I'm sorry that I tried to change it. It wasn't fair to you."

"I want this, still," John says, “But you are going to have to be more patient with me.”

Sherlock reaches forward to pull John closer to him to scent him. It's hard to miss the fact that Sherlock's body is reacting to him. 

"Lick me again," John says.

"Where?" Sherlock says with his lips almost touching him.

"I was thinking scent gland, but I'll take anywhere."

Sherlock's tongue is on John's neck, and John is even harder than Sherlock. But there is a still a bit of fear beneath it. "Talk to me," John pleads.

"I wasn't aware that that was part of this process," Sherlock says.

John grabs his arm, "When you talk to  me, I feel like I am making love to you, and not like some alpha is touching me against my will."

"Okay, what should I say?" Sherlock asks.

"It doesn't really matter, maybe the periodic table."

"The multiplication charts are more in your academic range, " Sherlock says.

John chuckles, but he is soothed by the words coming out of his husband's mouth. John peels the clothing  off of them both, and then pushes Sherlock into bed. 

"You made me forget what fourteen times eighteen is," Sherlock complains. "Give me another subject."

"Shakespeare," John says, "I heard you recite it to your little sister. Will you say it to our kids?"

"I'll say it to your stomach yeah?" Sherlock asks, "Later tonight if you want."

"I'm going to be pregnant soon," John ways with awe in his voice.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love," Sherlock recites.

John pulls Sherlock toward himself at the last word.

"You're crying," Sherlock says trying to push John off of him.

"Good tears, give me more Shakespeare," John pleads beginning  to touch himself in order to get relief.

"Thou crusty batch of nature," Sherlock says.

John chuckles, "Romantic, Shakespeare, love." John picks up his pace, and Sherlock reaches a hand to his cock to help. John wonders if he should explain that  alpahs don't usually help their omegas this way. Omega pleasure is usually just a side effect in alpha pleasure.

"When Love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes heaven drowsy with the harmony," Sherlock says.

"I need your knot, " John pleads.

Sherlock looks down, "Alphas normally don't control that do they?"

"No sorry, it's just sexy talk," John says.

"I am taking too long aren't I? I was worried that wasn't going to work," Sherlock says sadly.

"Honey, long sex is not a bad thing, okay. I'm close, it's true, but if I end up having a second round that will be good." Then John reaches down and grips the base of Sherlock's cock. 

"Oh, that helps. That is better than it ever was when I've done things for myself. That's bloody amazing," Sherlock says, "You're going to have to teach me how to jerk myself off more effectively."

"I could just do it for you," John offers.

"Maybe, yeah," Sherlock says.

John tries to laugh, but just then Sherlock thrusts his knot into him, and he orgasms instead. "God that was intense!" he pants.

Sherlock's face is crunched up in something that was almost pain, "It...didn't work," Sherlock says.

"You didn't come?" John asks.

Sherlock looks terrified and embarrassed.

"It's okay. It doesn't always happen with an alpha right when he gets the knot in," John says shifting to start thrusting again.

"There is no point. It's not going to work," Sherlock says as if he were incredibly bored.

"Just stay with me, Sherlock," John says thrusting much harder. Sherlock comes with a surprised scream. John holds him as he shakes through the orgasm.

Sherlock's hand reaches down between them to John's stomach, and John remembers that there is no doubt a baby inside of him. "Sherlock, do you have some Shakespeare for our baby."

"Our baby doesn't have ears, so it's really for you," Sherlock says, "Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by," 

John rolls the two of them on their sides. "Thank you for this, I know that it was way out of your comfort zone."

"It was less awkward than when I was by myself. We should definitely do this anytime that we want to have a baby," Sherlock says.

"I'm feeling nesty, already," John says, "I want to buy something for our baby."

Sherlock reaches for his phone straining the connection between them causing a connection which is part pleasure, and part pain. He hands John the phone, "Order it."

"That would be ridiculous!" John exclaims, "We don't even know for sure that I'm pregnant."

"There is a ninety-four and one third chance that you are, and even if you are  not, we are going to have a baby before long," Sherlock says.

"Okay, what should we buy our baby?" John says opening the phone.

"A book," Sherlock says with absolute certainty.

"Yes, a book of nursery rhymes," John says.

"Why would we want our child to be exposed to political satire by dead people who were too scared to state their hatred of kings and queens out loud?"

"It's something simple enough that I could actually read to my child," John says.

"There are a lot of archaic spellings in them," Sherlock argues.

"Fine, you can read them to our child, and I'll listen, and afterwards you can explain the historical bits that I won't get," John says hitting the buy button on Sherlock's phone.

"John," Sherlock says seriously, "You are still going to keep learning, right?"

"Yeah, even faster if you keep saying the times tables while we are having sex," John says leaning forward as he giggles. 

Sherlock catches a whiff of the smell and buries his nose in John's neck. "Am I going to like smelling you this much when you are pregnant?"

"We're going to find out pretty soon," John says.

Sherlock's knot has gone down, and Sherlock slips out of John. John snuggles against him, "There is no way that I could love you more. I...I can't say thank you enough, Sherlock. I never imagined that anything this wonderful would happen to me."

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me too," Sherlock whispers in his ear. "Now sleep, and then we'll get some room service when you wake up. There is a lot of good that you can say about French food, but large portions are not one of them, and they aren't perhaps the best for someone in a heat."

"I'm not hungry," John mutters barely audibly.

"I know, and that is why you need an alpha to take care of you. You think that you don't need food, but you do, and I'm going to make sure you get it."

John is about to chuckle at the idea of Sherlock being a caregiver, but then he realizes that Sherlock will be doing that a whole lot more  soon when their child arrives.

-0-

Greg walks into his bedroom after making sure that James went off to bed to find three people crying-the twins, and Mycroft.

"What's wrong? Did  your legs go out again?" he asks. The painful process has happened a few times after the birth, which is  pretty typical , but it's been several days now, and it should not still be happening.

"No, it's nothing," Mycroft says bouncing the babies in his arms, and then opening his shirt to begin nursing. One of them latches on, but their son begins to cry. 

Greg takes the reluctant baby from his mate and begins to pace the floor in the hopes that it will put the other baby to sleep. "it's not nothing, but it might be hormones which would be understandable."

Mycroft looks at Greg clearly taking a few seconds before he decides to spill his troubles upon the other man, "I'm a terrible father!" he exclaims in agony.

"What?  Of course, you aren't!" Greg exclaims. "What happened?"

"I can't make them stop crying," Mycroft says pointing to their son in Greg's arms.

"Well, it's quite clear that I can't do that either. Babies cry sometimes, and sometimes you can make them stop, and other times you can't."

"I've never read to them," Mycroft continues to list his failings.

"Okay, well, they are only four days old, so that isn't terribly surprising."

"Babies are able to learn for months before they are born. I've wasted so many opportunities, and they are probably going to struggled forever, because I didn't take good care of them."

"You're being ridiculous, besides, I'm sure a baby can't learn much more from a book than from hearing a person as smart as you talk."

"That's not true, even books meant for preschool children have far more vocabulary diversity than conversations of college educated individuals," Mycroft says without missing a beat.

"Okay, well, I'll go get a book, and read to them," Greg says.

"But we can't get these months back! I failed them!"

" Oh, for goodness sake, we'll make up for lost time, and if you failed them than both of us did. After all, these babies have two fathers."

"You didn't know! I knew the research, and I still did nothing. The difference between the kids who have the most and fewest words by the time they enter primary school can be almost a million words, and our children are going to be behind, because of my neglect!"

"Okay, I'm done arguing with you, because you are not being rational, and so there is no way that I am ever going to win this one. What you need to do is calm down, and we can deal with whatever the real problem is. Because our children are going to be fine."

"The real problem is that I didn't read to them!" Mycroft says.

"Okay, well that problem can be fixed by my going to get a book. Even if we were a few months behind, which I don't really think is the case, we could catch up  pretty fast simply by doubling up on reading for as many months.  So, if I go get  four books , and read them to the twins, are you going to feel better about everything?"

Mycroft stares at him for a long second, before slowly shaking his head. "Our babies don't have any mother."

"No, but they have two fathers, and that is just exactly as good."

"What if it isn't? What if our children are going to suffer because I decided to have them? What if what we did was selfish?"

"It wasn't Mycroft. How could you possibly thing that deciding to give birth instead of having an abortion. Giving your life to the raising of two little humans who are going to rely on you for decades, how could you ever think that was selfish. You are probably right in the fact that being raised by two fathers is probably not exactly like being raised by a mother, and a father, but I'm betting that there are some ways that it is better just like there are some ways that it is worse."

"What if I screwed them up?"

"Honey, all parents screw up their children in some way or  another , so we are not unique in that. I really think the important thing is that you are trying to do your very best by the kids, and I think that as long as that is true, they are going to be fine."

"That's a lie, but it helps anyway," Mycroft says.

Greg crawls into bed giving him a kiss while he exchanges the still crying baby for the one who has finished feeding.

"Thank you," Mycroft says, "But I would feel better if you went and got some books for us to read to them."

"Right," Greg says standing up with the baby in his arms.

-0-

John woke the next morning in an intense heat, and Sherlock nagged him into eating before he took care of his other needs. Sherlock had helped for a while, but before long John could see that he was bored.

"You could go out, and sight see if you wanted," John offers.

"It's irresponsible for an alpha to leave their omega in heat," Sherlock says.

"Not when the alpha doesn't have anything to do with the relieving of the heat. You're bored, go on," John encourages.

"I'm not going to go if it would in any way leave you in danger," Sherlock wavers back and forth.

"There are door locks, honey. I'm honestly going to be fine."

Sherlock stands, and then plops back into the bed. "It feels wrong to leave, and you smell really good. Can't I just stay here, and read?"

"That would be lovely, assuming that you wouldn't be opposed to my getting myself off."

"No, it makes you smell better. Maybe we could even snuggle while you do it?"

"That works for me," John says, " Your alpha smell really helps."

-0-

"Madi, why don't you go for a walk?" Greg asks.

Madi takes a look at Mycroft, and then looks back at Greg to shake her head.

"Okay, but you're going to have to give Mycroft and me and minute."

"Why?" the girl asks suspiciously.

"Because we've got to talk embarrassing grown up stuff," Greg says.

Madi flees the room, and Mycroft looks at his partner in amusement, "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"You've been out of bed today honey?" Greg asks.

Mycroft sighs, "I'm still recovering from giving birth to twins."

"Yes, and if it was a purely physical recovery you would be up and about more."

"I'm having a bit of trouble adjusting yes, but you don't need to worry about me."

"I do when our daughter is spending the whole day curled up in bed next to you."

"She's happy!" Mycroft protests.

"She's as worried about you as I am, and I'm also worried about her."

"I can't get up," Mycroft whispers, "I've tried."

"I know, I'm saying that we should get some help."

"I can't have post partem depression," Mycroft says, "I'm a beta."

"I know this sucks, it actually legitimately does, but Mycroft ignoring it, and doing nothing isn't working," Greg says softly.

"I know, and if I agree to take care of this tomorrow will you let my daughter come back in?"

"I really think you should come on a walk with us," Greg says, "I know you don't want to, but I honestly think it would make you feel better. "You're right," he says, "And I'm sorry about all the other ways this has been affecting us."

Greg stares at him confused what he's talking about for a long second, and then it dawns on him, "you think I'm talking about sex Mycroft? Not even close. This is genuinely about your mental health. I want you to be happy, and I don't want our daughter to be trying to play the role of grown-up to you. It has nothing to do with that! My God you gave birth to twins barely two months ago. I can't imagine you are physically ready yet!"

"I was cleared at the last appointment two weeks ago. I. .. didn't tell you, because I didn't feel like it."

"Okay, well if you had told me I certainly wouldn't have tried to insist upon anything! Honestly, I am more than happy to wait until you are both physically, and mentally ready."

"Thank you," Mycroft says, "In that case...we might want to make a trip to the chemist’s soon, not today, we'll take the kiddos on a walk today. But if we don't make the trip in the next week or so..."

"Right," Greg says looking fierce for a second, "I'd forgotten that they won't let you get heat  suppressors without your mate in person. Of course, we'll take care of that."

"I could always get them on the black market like I have before, but they are so much more expensive that way. But you do think that you could pass as an alpha right?"

"I've done it actually, a few dozen time for omegas who had various reasons they couldn't show up in the  chemist's with an alpha to get them the pills. The most common reason being that the omegas wanted birth control, and the alpha did not. The saddest reason was her husband had died, and she didn't have the death certificate yet."

"Well, if you're comfortable with that deception it looks like I could save even more if we went 'round to different shops now and again so we can keep John and Sherlock supplied as long as they are  underage and haven't had a child."

"Of course, I would much rather you all had the legal stuff to use. I know that some of the people selling illegal heat  suppressors to omegas are doing it out of the goodness of their hearts, but I also know that a good many of them are not, and god knows what they might cut into  the stuff ." Mycroft's face goes quite pale, and Greg chuckles, "Don't tell me that a genius like you never thought that someone might pull a nasty trick like that."

"It's not that. I just realized that Sherlock and John should have asked me for more  suppressors by now. Damn it! I didn't even do the math until now. You don't think the two of them are so daft that they would have gone without just because they were too embarrassed to ask for it do you?"

"Teenagers are foolish things on the whole," Greg says causing Mycroft to reach for the phone.

-0-

John tries to ignore the phone, after all, people who are in the middle of their heats should not be expected to answer the phone, but eventually it becomes enough of an annoyance that John picks up. He is more than a little surprised to hear Mycroft's somewhat frantic voice on the other side of the phone, "Finally! Why can't you, and my brother pick up? Are you all right, John?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

" So, you're not in heat? Sherlock must have got you suppressors another way," Mycroft sighs, "Well good. It's about time that my brother showed some responsibility, but I am rather sorry that I forgot about you."

"Understandable with the babies coming and all, but we would have asked for  suppressors if we needed them, and I'm..." John considers letting the man believe the lie, but surely, he's going to be able to see through the lie  pretty easily in the months ahead. "I'm actually in heat."

"I'm sorry John!" Mycroft bemoans, "It's too late for medicine to do anything about it, but where are you? Somewhere safe?"

"Yeah, I'm safe,  Paris actually, a bit of a tardy honeymoon. But Mycroft, we  skipped the  suppressors on purpose. We were trying to go into heat."

There is a shocked pause on the other end of the phone, "And why exactly  would you be trying to do that?" Mycroft asks.

"We're actually trying for a baby," John says, and even though he was well, and truly excited about that idea not a half hour ago he feels the same dread in the pit of his stomach as he had that day he went to Sherlock's school.

"Why?" Mycroft  says no end of worried about the foolish choice that his brother and brother-in-law are making, but also relieved that it is not his fault. After all, he'd given them more than enough birth control to last, so this was at the very least their choice.

"Because I want a baby more than anything else in the world," John says. "I know that you might not be as baby obsessed as some of us, but you did decide to have your kids, so I thought you might at least have understood that."

"I do understand that, but John, you are so young. You have years, and years yet if you decide to have kids."

"It's not an if, Mycroft, at least I hope it's not still hypothetical, and I'll be eighteen before the baby is born. Sherlock and I have plans to continue our education and spread our kids out at first, so we can keep up with our schooling, and so we'll have parenting down a bit more before there are a lot of them."

"It's so funny," Mycroft muses, "I spent my whole life saying that every omega ought to have the right to choose whether or not they had children, and it honestly never occurred to me that some people with the choice before them would choose to have them young and in large numbers. But just because it's not my choice, doesn't mean that there is anything wrong with the choice," suddenly Mycroft remembers his brother-in-law is in heat, "I'll let you go then. Scold Sherlock to answer his phone for me when it's convenient won't you?"

"Of course," John replies.


	16. Chapter 16

Sherlock comes back with bags full of posh clothes, and expensive musk, and the most delicious whine and pastries and cheese that John has ever tasted. By the time Sherlock crawls into bed beside him John is already through the most intense parts of  heat and is mostly recovering.

They open up the large glass doors, and pull the hotel's couch next to the terrace, and watch the sunset over Paris together.

"Thank you for bringing Paris to me."

"I didn't. I brought you to Paris," Sherlock says looking critically at the other man for signs that the heat might have addled his brain.

John chuckles as he waves his hands over the bags that Sherlock had returned with, "I was talking about all of this."

"This is shopping, and most of it I could have ordered for you in London," Sherlock says scrunching his nose, "There is still time for you to actually see the city starting tomorrow."

"I was trying to be poetic," John replies.

"Well don't. Before long the baby is going to be listening in on everything you say, and you'll only confuse him about what kind of a world he's going to live in if you keep using the wrong prepositions, and other nonsense."

"Our baby is going to hear lots of poetry, especially from you. Besides it might be a girl," John warns.

"Considering that both the people contributing genetic material are male, it's twice as likely to be male as female.  But if you would like me to use a  gender-neutral pronoun until we know for sure I would be happy to oblige."

"How about we name the baby. Not a real name of course, but just something to call it by until it's born. That way we don't always have to use a pronoun, or say, "baby."

"We could call it fetus," Sherlock suggests. At John's head shake, Sherlock protests. "I know it's not technically accurate yet, since we'd most likely still be looking at a zygote, but it will be accurate for most of the time that we would want a nickname for the child."

"I'm not objecting to the scientific accuracy of the term, Sherlock, I'm just protecting the both of us from a lot of angry people who would think we didn't love the kid if we went around calling it that in public. And they'd be wrong, so I'd just rather they didn't think that at all then, eh?"

"People are stupid," Sherlock objects.

"Agreed, but that doesn't change anything."

The two of them sit in silence for a few seconds before Sherlock says with decision, "Petit. it's French for little one, because the baby is quite small right now, and it was  conceived in France."

"That's perfect," John says leaning over to snuggle against  Sherlock . The smell of the heat is almost completely gone, all that is left are a few faint whiffs. Sherlock thought that he would miss it a lot more than he does. It turns out that he likes all the smells of John.

-0-

"I can't do it," Mycroft whispers to his husband as they wrap the twins up warmly to overprotect them from a day which could better be described as mild than cold.

"I know it is hard honey, but you agreed with the doctor that you were going to get more physical activity into your day."

"I know," Mycroft says, "And I'm trying, but getting the twins ready to go on a walk is hard work. And I know it's supposed to be good for them, but I honestly don't think they know the difference yet, unless they are too hot or too cold, or something else that we don't want them to be. How about this? You stay home with them today, and then I'll even go on a run. More exercise faster, and then I can be back to you sooner."

"But we're supposed to be doing this together, so you feel social support, and what not."

"I will feel supported, because I will be able to exercise, because you are watching them. When we get back to London, I can use the treadmill, and be away from them for even less time.”

"Sunlight is supposed to help too," Greg objects.

"I can run on my treadmill, and then take the kids out to play in the fenced in back yard. Besides, I don't want to keep using up all of my patience letting James walk whenever he asks us to let him."

"Yeah, he is slow, and it takes him a really long time before he gets tired," Greg agrees. 

-0-

Sherlock scented John's stomach each day. he never exactly told John that he wasn't pregnant, but John knows that his mate would have said something if he was. Almost a week passes, and John has almost decided that this pregnancy hadn't taken, and they were going to have to try again when one day Sherlock ends the scenting by saying, "Hello Pelita."

John starts to cry.

Sherlock looks alarmed, "You said you wanted a baby? Changing your mind is going to be very difficult, but not impossible."

"I'm not changing my mind," John says putting his hand on his cheek, "I just thought that I wasn't pregnant. It took a long time to change my scent, and I'd sort of given up."

"You're one of those people who cry happy tears? That is very disconcerting. you need to make up your mind, are you happy or are you sad?" Sherlock says with a shake of his head.

"I should make an appointment for the  doctor. Do you think that there is something wrong with the baby?"

Sherlock shakes his head.

"But it took so long for you to be able to scent it."

"John, sometimes that happens. It's probably...we only had sex once, so it probably took the zygote some time to implant in your lining. If your womb had been more stuffed with my sperm, and for longer, there would have been more chance of the egg being pushed against your lining earlier."

"So. .. what does this mean as the baby grows?" John asks with concern trying and failing to follow the scientific discussion of his mate.

"It means that the baby is going to be a day or two  younger than it would have been otherwise. That's it. It's fine," Sherlock says.

John buries his head in Sherlock's chest, and he begins to sob. "Are these happy tears again?" Sherlock asks.

"Relieved. But I'm still worried. God, I hope that parenthood is not going to be nothing more than one set of panic after the other. Honestly, I am thinking of everything that could ever go wrong in this kid's life right now, and there are so many things!"

"I know, and you haven't even read all the medical textbooks that I have!" Sherlock says, "But you have to remember that people have been born for generations successfully."

"Do you think it would be bad luck to post our news?" John asks.

"I think you are definitely going to have bad luck if you let  Facebook know that you are having a baby before my mother finds out she's going to be a grandmother."

"She already is one," John points out.

"Yes, but she's still going to be happy about being one again. She wouldn't think that she has enough grandchildren until the population of the Earth consists of nothing but her desendants," Sherlock says.

John feels nesty again, "I think the cot should go by that wall, how about you?"

"I think it should go in your old room," Sherlock says looking at him in surprise.

"You mean Mycroft's room?" John says in shock. He'd never really thought of it as his own room, but he has felt very much at home ever since he started  sharing a room with Sherlock.

"Mycroft almost never uses that room so the baby would disrupt his sleep far less than it would disrupt our sleep if he were in the room."

"I want my sleep disturbed if my baby needs something," John declares, "That room is so far away from here."

"We could use a baby monitor," Sherlock says.

John looks worried, "Maybe I should just move back into my old room with the baby for a couple of months." He stands  up and walks out of the room before Sherlock has time to respond to him. Sherlock is left thinking about how the baby isn't even here, and he's already taken John's attention away from him.

-0-

"Mummy," John says as the family is  gathered together for breakfast a bit  later on in the day. He's been calling her that for the last few months, not long after he officially married her son. "I was wondering if you'd saved any of the cots from your children."

"Oh yes, I'd use the same one until it got old, and then I'd get a new one. There is still one up in the attic."

"No cot," Emma says narrowing her eyes at John for daring to bring it up.

"I...I think I'll have use for it soon," John says.

Mummy makes a squeal, and she runs across the kitchen to scoop the boy up in a hug. "I'm so happy for you." Then she pulls away, "I mean, I will be very excited if this is something that you did on purpose."

"Yes," John says, and Mummy hugs him again.

"Come here boy,” Mummy  says to Sherlock, “and I'll give you a hug too," she says pulling her son into a hug without letting John go. "Yes, we'll get the cot set up latter on today."

"That won't be necessary. It was more of a cute way of telling you than it was a need right now. We've got months," John says.

"Right," Mummy says, "But you've got to feel nesty."

"John ordered him a teddy bear moments after we made him," Sherlock says ignoring how uncomfortable he is making the rest of the family, "and we got him a blanket in France."

"Right, well you just nest as much as you want to, dear one, because your baby is  going to be welcome here. Very welcome here," Mummy says.

"Thank you. I really appreciate being able to keep living here even after our baby is born. I know that not every family is so generous with such things. It would be hard to continue with our education without it, and I really didn't want to wait any longer before having a baby," John says.

"Oh of course, we are family boy. Lord knows you've done enough to help me raise my babies that I could do a great deal of grand parenting to make up for it. I know we're not genetically family, but do you think?" she asks, and it takes John a moment to realize that she is asking for the chance to scent him, and as soon as  he realizes it he nods. 

Mrs. Holmes scents him, gently nuzzling her nose against his stomach. "The smell is still faint."

"Oh, I wish you hadn't mentioned that mother," Sherlock says with a roll of his eyes.

"Do you think it's a bad sign?" John says.

"We only found out today, Mummy. It's not as if the smell is fading," Sherlock adds quickly.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it John, but we ought to go to a doctor today. Mostly just to put your mind at rest," Mummy says.

John puts his hand on his belly and nods.

"I should come with instead of going to  school, shouldn't I?" Sherlock asks.

Mummy sighs, "I suspect you are just trying to get out of school, but I think that John would rather have you there, so I am going to say yes."

-0-

The doctor looks over the clipboard at John, "When did you say that this child was conceived?" the doctor asks.

"Nine days ago," John says nervously.

" And you only smelt it this morning," the doctor asks John.

"I tried to smell it every day?" Sherlock defends, "I know that it's important to do, and I knew that John was starting to worry that..." Sherlock drops off when he sees John's face go pale.

"Your blood work does have very low levels for a pregnancy that is that far along," the doctor says.

"He wasn't conceived in the traditional manner if that matters," John blurts looking down at his feet in shame after he's said it.

"What do you mean by that?" the doctor asks.

When it becomes clear that John is not going to answer Sherlock does, "I  only knotted him the once during his heat, and that was at the beginning."

"Where  their complications or interruptions?" the doctor asks.

"No, it's just the way we've decided to arrange our lives," Sherlock says with absolute confidence. John's cheeks go brighter red.

"We'll know more when we see the ultrasound," the doctor says.

John reaches out for Sherlock's hand as he rearranges himself so that the doctor can put the ultrasound wand in John's most private areas.

Sherlock moves closer to  him and gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

The doctor scans John for so long that the faint sound of John's heartbeat on the scanner is starting to sound more panicked. Then the doctor smiles, "Ah, here we are. A perfectly healthy specimen really, it's just a bit younger than you thought. I can understand why you were confused. It's rare for a heat to go by without a baby being conceived, and it's even more rare for one to be conceived after a heat."

"That's not possible," Sherlock says, "We've not had sex since the heat." Then Sherlock looks startled, and he looks at John with real fear in his eyes, "We haven't' have we?"

"Are you seriously asking me if you've forgotten us having sex again?" John says with a laugh. But the laugh quickly dies on his lips, "No, that's not what you are asking. You  are asking if I had sex with someone else, Jesus, Sherlock."

"We never technically talked about being exclusive," Sherlock says.

"We didn't? I thought it was bloody implied by the bite I let you take out of my neck. Just so you know, I'm not about to sleep with someone else, and if you  do I will make sure that you regret it!"

" Oh, he's a feisty omega, isn't he," the doctor says to Sherlock like it is a joke.

"I'm sure he could fight both of us without breaking a sweat," Sherlock replies, "But he isn't going to, because,” he says turning to talk to John directly now, “I didn't cheat on you, and I have no intention to I'm sorry for asking. I should have remembered that was the sort of thing which people get offended by, but you have to understand that it looked like there was no scientific chance that the baby you carried could be mine."

"I know," John says, "That must have been scary for you. I can't even imagine what a mess I would be if I thought you'd had a baby with someone else."

"I would have  loved you the same, and I still would have taken care of the baby," Sherlock says seriously.

"Good to know, but you're never going to have to find out," John promises. "But the baby's healthy? If I came in here, and didn't know how old the baby was you would think it was okay?" 

"Yes," the doctor says. "You can set up your next appointment at the desk on your way out."

John stands  up and puts himself back together. "Shall we?" John says.

-0-

Mycroft thought he would feel like a beta once he was back in his beta clothes, and his two little children were weaned, but he feels more like he is play acting that anything else. His plans were to put the babies and James in day care and find a high-powered job, even if it wasn't exactly like the job that he'd left. His first day back in  London he doesn't feel like doing that though. He didn't  take into account how much he was going to miss his children, and he doesn't quite feel like the powerful beta that he was when he left.

So, he takes the kids to the park, and thinks he'll deal with the rest of it when he's a bit less  dysmorphic .

He had never imagined that his boss would be in the park. He wonders though if his subconscious hadn’t  led him here based on some deduction that he couldn’t remember making. After all the  park was quite near where he used to work, and his boss had always disappeared for a while around lunch time.

"Mycroft! How have you been?" he asks.

"Very well, actually,"  Mycroft says with a smile.

"And who are these urchins?" He jokes.

"They are family that I live with and care for.

"I do admire infertile siblings who are traditional enough to help out with their sibling's families. Is this why you needed to take some time off?"

"It is," Mycroft admits, " I was thinking about looking for work again."

"Would you like to come back?" his boss says.

"I would," Mycroft lies, hoping it will become truth.

"Well, I'm not ashamed to admit that things have not been the same since you left. Can you start Monday?"

"Yes," Mycroft says with the confidence that he does not feel.

His boss starts to walk away, but he turns back, and says, "You know I've got an older omega brother who has had three nannies for years. Well, many of his children are older, and he doesn’t need both anymore. He really doesn't want to let any of them go, because they are all such gems. Would you like me to give him your number?"

"I would appreciate it thank you," Mycroft says mostly because he doesn't know anything else to say. He hadn't wanted to bring someone into his house. He likes the close intimate feel  of his home, and an intruder would end it. He and Greg would have to pretend that they are not a couple when they are. 

He sighs. James's shoe is untied, and he bends down to tie it for him. While he is bent down next to the little  boy he notices that there is a worry wrinkle between his eyebrows. He brushes it gently away with his thumb.

"My bye bye?" the boy asks.

"Well, your understanding of conversation is better than I thought. Honey, I am going to go back to work soon, it's true. But I'm still going to see you every day. It will be okay."

" Greg ?" the boy asks.

"Well, Greg is at the police station trying to get his old job back right now, actually," Mycroft says.

James starts to cry. "It's okay, we'll find someone good to take care of you, and I promise we are both still going to be there for you. I love you baby."

Mycroft finishes tying the shoe, and then picks up the boy, and carries him while pushing the pram with his babies in it to the playground they had been working their way toward before Mycroft had his fateful run-in. The little boy refuses to go off, and play, but instead stays glued to Mycroft  sniffling in the aftermath of his tears.

"Isn't that the worst?" a young mother whose daughter is happily playing in the sandbox. "You take the time out of your life to take them here, and then they are all pouty, and don't play. Hours later when they need to be quiet and calm, they are going to be crawling the walls."

Mycroft chuckles, "I agree. Although this one might be a bit of my fault. He just found out that I am going back to work soon."

"Oh, that's too bad. But he was lucky that you took some time off to take care of them. Most uncles are not that generous. My family firmly believes that sibling responsibility does not go beyond presents at birthdays, and an occasional night of babysitting one or two of the older ones. They'll be going back to stay with your sibling then?"

"No, we're keeping them," Mycroft says flinching inwardly at the use of the plural pronoun.

"We?" she asks, and he should have known that she wouldn't let something as interesting as that go.

"My roommate is actually their uncle," he says.

"Oh honey," she says putting her hand on his, "You're going to have to be more careful with strangers, but for the record, you don't need any caution with me."

"Thank you," he says looking down.

"Love is a powerful thing, and I don't think that anyone who is capable of feeling it should deny themselves that. I think it's disgusting that they try to brow beat people like you into hiding. And you're raising kids together? That's great."

"Thank you," Mycroft says.

Just then one of the twins starts to  fuss.

"May I? I had a baby in my arms for almost thirty years, and my youngest has just informed me that she's much  too old to be held anymore."

"Of course," Mycroft says as she lifts the baby up. "I feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions. Believe me when I say that I love my job, and it's important work too. I wouldn't want to not be doing my job. But the idea of not seeing these little ones for hours, and hours a day is just about unbearable to me."

"I know what you mean," she says. "I actually started working part time a couple years ago, when I only had three little ones at home. When I am at work, I feel like I should be at home. When I am at home, I feel like I should be at work. I don't feel like I do a great job either place."

"You do," Mycroft says with certainty.

"You will too," she smiles. 

"Oy! Sara, sand out of your mouth, please!" she says handing the baby back to  Mycroft and walking over to take care of her daughter.

-0-

"Hey, James," Greg says trying to take the little boy out of his partner's hands. The boy refuses. "He's a bit clingy today," Greg observes.

"He heard that I am going back to work, and he's a bit freaked out. I don't think he understands it," Mycroft says bouncing the little boy as he talks to him, "We're not going to be leaving you alone. I won't go on Monday if we don't have someone to stay with you."

"Moft!" James says digging his fingers into the other man in an effort to make sure that he stays close to him.

"Monday?" Greg says.

"It's a bit sudden I know, and I don't know what we're going to do for  childcare , but we ran into my big boss today, and I was a bit afraid that saying no then might have been saying no forever."

"It's all right. I'm sure your mum wouldn't mind watching them for a couple days until we figure something out."

"He also  recommended a nanny," Mycroft says looking terrified.

"Oh," Greg says, "Is that going to work?"

"I don't think so," Mycroft says shaking his head, "But I don't exactly know how to get out of it."

"We'll say that I hired someone, and just hadn’t told you yet when you ran into him," Greg says.

"That's good. I should have thought to say that I had something set up already then," Mycroft says, "God, do you think that I've still got pregnancy brain? Maybe I'm not going to be able to do this job."

"You're going to be fine honey. Things might be a bit different after kids, but I'm sure you'll be back  in your element before long."

Mycroft nods his head, but he's not sure. Sometimes he wonders if there isn't a reason why omegas used to be kept home for most of human history. Maybe there was wisdom in it, even though the reasons that they say are all wrong. It's not because they are genetically inferior, but so many of them  have to carry the double burdens of  childcare and business.

When he was giving birth, he said the wasn't sure he was as strong as the omegas who were able to push a human being out of their bodies, and now he's not sure again if betas are strong enough to have family and a job all at once.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not actually new! This chapter was previously posted as chapter 16. I accidentally posted an early chapter twice! Chapter 11 is however new, and I'm sorry about how confusing it is that thy are out of order!

There is a rule in the universe that the biggest disasters happen when you are least equipped to deal with them. That is why, on Monday when Mummy had charge of her three small grandchildren in addition to her child it would be the day when John needed her.

He enters the living room where she is supervising tummy time with the twins while Emma reads to James.

"I'm spotting," John says looking pale.

"Oh honey," she says.

John starts to cry, and she takes him up in her arms, and she gives him a quick squeeze. "Now dear, this doesn't mean that your baby is gone, you hear  me? I bled with two of my pregnancies, Sherlock included. We are going to go to the doctor now, but I don't want you lifting anyone. You go sit in the car, and I'll get them arranged as soon as I can."

"Maybe I should go by myself..." John says feeling like he is inconveniencing a woman who has given him everything.

"No dear. I don't want you moving any more than you have to. While I'm loading the kids up, you call Mr. Holmes and tell him to take off work to meet us at the hospital. Then you call up Sherlock's school, and tell them to meet us at the hospital. Sit down," she says when he doesn't move.

-0-

Sherlock bursts into the hospital room like a hurricane.

"If you want your omega to hold on to that pup it might be a good idea not to startle him," the doctor says glaring at him over  horn-rimmed glasses.

"John," Sherlock says looking at him desperately.

John holds out is  hand and shakes his head.

Sherlock's face goes grim.

"No, I think you misunderstand. I meant we don't know yet," John whispers. Sherlock looks relieved.

"Well," the doctor says, "Your cervix is still closed, and your blood work still looks pretty good. You are certainly not losing the pregnancy tonight."

"But I am losing the baby?" John asks worried.

"I don't know. I am putting you on bed rest for a week, and after that I would like to see you again. If your blood work keeps looking good you would be able to maintain most of your regular activities with the exception of having to maintain pelvic rest."

John looks at Sherlock for the translation of what that might mean.

Sherlock smiles slightly, "He's telling us not to have sex."

"Oh," John says blushing. 

"During the week of  bedrest, you should not get out of bed to do anything but go to the bathroom. You are going to have to find an arrangement for care for your children."

"What?" John says, "This is my first."

"Oh, I saw you come in with quite a  few young children. I assumed that they were yours."

"One is my sister-in-law, and the other three are my niece and nephews," John says. 

"Well, they are going to have to leave you alone this week. If you are bothered much it will be putting your child at risk."

John nods resisting the urge to tell the doctor that children didn't bother him, and that if they  did, he probably wouldn't be so desperate to hold on to the one which was currently growing inside of his womb. He doesn't want a note written down in his file that he was an unruly omega.

The doctor leaves the room giving John time to put his clothes on, but first he pulls Sherlock down for a scenting. "You still smell scared," he whispers.

"It's going to be okay," Sherlock replies trying to put off an honest scent with the words, and mostly succeeding. He helps John up, and John puts his street clothes back on. John is then surprised when Sherlock pulls him into a fireman's  carry and makes the way out the door.

"Sherlock! What are you doing? Put me down!"

"The doctor says you are not supposed to walk unless you are going to the bathroom. Am I confused and you were about to go to the bathroom, then?" Sherlock asks him carrying him down the hallway.

"Put me down, and I'll wait for a wheelchair!" John exclaims.

Sherlock continues to ignore him, "I'm more than capable of taking care of my omega, thank you."

"Sherlock, this is not exactly reducing my stress level, please."

Sherlock sighs, but sets him down. "Do you think this happened because...of the way he was conceived?" he asks in a whisper.

"No," John says.

"Maybe I didn't scent you enough."

"You scented me twice a day. I don't think that is what the problem is," John insists, "Besides, if the doctor thought that is what the problem no doubt, he would have mentioned it. He would have told us to scent each other more, and he  actually told us to stop  having sex, so lack of sex could not be the issue. Perhaps we are doing better by this baby than most people would have been in this position."

Sherlock takes a deep breath, "Okay." "Nurse!" he calls, "My mate needs a wheelchair. He's on bed rest, and I don't want to take any risks."

Meanwhile, John breaks his resolution by just a little bit by taking a couple steps into the waiting room.

"What did he say?" Mummy asks taking a step toward them. Clearly her husband has arrived already to take the children home.

"I'm on bed rest, but it could be okay," John says.

"Oh thank God!" Mummy says taking the boy into a gentle hug.

"You told me it would be fine," John says with a laugh.

"I knew it might be fine, and I also knew that the less you fretted the greater the chances that it  would be fine. I may have sounded certain, but it was really no more than hope buoyed up by false confidence."

"Here John," Sherlock says pushing the wheelchair close to the other man.

"Thank you," he says sitting down. He tries to take the wheels in his hands.

Sherlock corrects him by saying, "I'm going to push you. Remember you are supposed to be resting."

"Right," John says folding his hands on his lap, and realizing that the next week is going to be anything but fun. He feels guilty right away, because after all, what is a little boredom in exchange for his child getting to live? He shouldn't even think of it.

-0-

"It's perfectly normal for little ones to cry when they go to day care for the first time," the woman assures Mycroft as she tries to take the screaming James out of his hands. Mycroft takes a step back to prevent her from taking the child. They had decided that day care was far more likely to keep their secret from being discovered than a nanny would be. They'd done their good research and found a good one near their house. They had bribed their way in when there  were no openings, and now Mycroft was attempting to drop off the three  children before his first day at work.

"Surely it's not normal for them  to cry this much. Perhaps I'd ought to call in today, and we can try again tomorrow," he says.

"With all due respect, dear," the teacher says in a tone which implies anything but respect, "But if you leave now, you'll only have taught him that when he cries, he gets whatever he wants. If you leave today, I can promise that he's going to cry a lot harder tomorrow."

Mycroft considers, and then looks seriously at the boy in his arms, "James, honey, you are going to have so much fun at day care, and in a few hours, I will come and pick you up. It's going to be  okay; I promise."

"Moft," he replies burying his head in Mycroft's chest.

"I know honey, but you're so grown up, you're going to stop crying now. you're going to make lots of friends today."

"No!" James says.

" Sure, you are! I'm going to go to work, you're going to be at nursery school. Then when I come to pick you up, we're going to have all kinds of stories to tell each other, and we'll see who had the best day. I bet it's going to be me, because you'll just cry the whole time," Mycroft says.

"No," James pouts, "Me!"

"Really?" Mycroft says with mock surprise, "I don't know. You'll have to show me that you can go without crying before I can believe you."

James rubs his eyes furiously, and puts a giant smile on his face, even though the tears have not actually stopped yet.

Mycroft grins, and sets him down without any more fuss.

"That was some fancy parenting," the lady says. Then she pauses as Mycroft comes close enough that she can smell the beta musk he's started putting on heavily since returning to London. At first Mycroft worries that a bit of the milky new mother scent has gotten through, but her next words prove him wrong, "I'm sorry, uncling."

"Right," Mycroft says as he walks out of the nursery, but he can't help but miss the days when everyone assumed that his children were his. He was so eager to leave his life out of town, and yet here, where there are other things that make him happy, he is also longing for parts of the old life that he'd left behind. The omega clothes had never  seemed to fit him, but since returning he was finding the beta clothes felt just as off.

He felt as if he were wearing two different costumes, and neither of them described him, both of them were make believe.

-0-

"Sherlock, you should go to school today," John says trying hard to keep the annoyance that he's  actually feeling out of his  voice and failing ever so slightly.

"I couldn't possibly!" Sherlock exclaims, "You might need something, and I would hate to think you got up to get it, just because I wasn't' here to fetch it for you!"

"Your mother is more than capable of getting me some water," John says.

"She's distracted by her own offspring," Sherlock says.

"She had four times the number of children underfoot the day that I needed her, and that didn't stop her from being there for me," John replies.

Sherlock bursts into  tears and falls on him.

"What's wrong?" John says holding onto him.

"I wasn't here when you needed me. Alphas aren't supposed to work, and I always thought that was stupid and random and oppressive, but now I see they were right! John you want a baby more than anything else in the world, and you almost lost your baby because of me."

"Sherlock," John says soothing his hair down, "This wasn't your fault. If you had been here I wouldn't have gotten to the hospital any faster."

"It might not have even happened if I stayed home with you all the time," Sherlock whines.

"Not true. You saw the way the doctor lectured me about not having kids around me, and us not having sex. He knew you weren't with me right away, because you were at school. Do you really think he would have left that off if he thought it was a factor?" John says seriously.

"No, I don't suppose he would have," Sherlock says, "But..."

John sighs, "All right, if you go to school this morning, and pick up all your work for the week you can stay home as long as you actually do it. Deal?"

"Yes," Sherlock says kissing him, and jumping up to run out of the room. He stops at the door, and turns around, "Do you need anything before I go?"

"No, I'm all right," John says.

"And you've got the phone so you can text my mom if that changes  before, I get home?" Sherlock asks.

"Yes," John says patiently.

"Okay," Sherlock says turning, and hustling out of the room.

-0-

Based on the tears Mycroft had endured when he dropped James and the twins off at day care he hadn't expected the reaction that he gets when he picks James up from day care. As soon as the boy sees him he darts beneath a child sized table.

Mycroft lays down on the floor chuckling, "Are we playing hide and seek?" Mycroft asks.

"Go 'ay!" James announces.

Mycroft feels like he is about to burst into tears, but he manages to hold himself together, "Why should I go away? This morning you wanted me to stay."

"Not had best day yet!" the child says wiggling out from under the table where Mycroft can see him, and looking around the room frantically trying to find a better place to hide.

"Oh, well, I bet that you've actually had a better day than I've had, because you see, mine wasn't all that great," Mycroft says.

"Really?" James says.

"Yeah, work was hard, and I really missed my kiddos."

"Miss you," James agrees crawling into his lap.

"Okay, we've got to go pick up sister at school soon, so let's get moving," he says with a warm smile over the boy's shoulder at the lady who runs the day care.


	18. Chapter 18

John had put up with Sherlock fussing over him like he was a helpless omega, because he'd assumed that the fussing had an expiration date. It doesn't dissipate when he gets the okay to resume normal  activities . John ignores it for the first two days, figuring that worry like this probably doesn't have an easy on and off switch. 

Now it's been three days, and Sherlock hasn't returned to school, and if  anything, the over-protectiveness has gotten even worse. When John reaches over to the bedside table to pick up a light paperback to hold, and read Sherlock gasps, and takes it out of his hands so that Sherlock can hold it for him. John grabs the book from him and tosses it at the wall. Sherlock reaches for it but stops when he sees the glare on John's face.

"What is wrong?" Sherlock asks softly.

"What's wrong is I can't take all of this babying. You have to go back to school tomorrow!"

"But you might need me," Sherlock says. 

"What I really need is a few hours break from you! I'm fine, and the baby is fine, and there is no reason why you should hoover"

Sherlock buries his nose into John's neck. "I miss you."

"Well, you're going to have to get over it," John says chuckling.

"No, I don't," Sherlock whispers, "You are home schooled, why can't I be?"

"I am home schooled because I can't read. You are on par with your classmates."

"I'm not on par with them," Sherlock says sounding insulted, "I am far above them. I learn faster than them, and if I didn't have to interact with them, I would learn even faster. Maybe I could finish school before the baby comes, or I could do my  schoolwork in a couple of  hours and spend the rest of the time taking care of babies."

"Sherlock, you go to an impressive school, and quitting would mean that you had fewer choices in life," John says.

"But I'm old enough to know that I don't want any of those options. Besides, if I was home  schooled, I wouldn't have to leave you so often." His face goes grave, "But you just said that you wanted me to leave you more often."

"No," John says rubbing his arm sorry to have hurt the other man, "Sherlock I want you around I do. I've got a little annoyed these last few days when you've been treating me like I'm a  teacup that is about to crack."

"I'm sorry. I promise I am going to work really hard not to annoy you if I am home with you all day," Sherlock says.

"I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to say that you annoy me. I guess what I am most concerned about is that you are going to lose yourself in this. I think it's really important for people who are married to have something outside of the marriage too. I'm going to have learning to read and playing with your little sister. I need you to have something that matters to you that isn't me or our children."

"Crime," Sherlock says with decision.

John laughs, but when Sherlock doesn't, he somber up fast, "You are going to be a father, Sherlock, you can't be committing crimes!"

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "Committing them? How dull! I'm going to be solving them." 

"Yes, I suppose that will do it. Even if it doesn't turn out to be an official job."

"You don’t have a bunch of doubts, or a boring lecture about how dangerous it is?" Sherlock asks in surprise.

"No, you saved me with your crime solving abilities. I have no doubt that you'll be able to do the same thing for other people. Not letting you do that would be cruel to other people. But I will ask you to try to be safe. It's not just me that's waiting for you at home, not really anymore."

Sherlock nods. "I'll have more time if I get to stay home," he reminds John.

"Yes, dear," John says, "We'll talk to your mother about it tomorrow."

-0-

It's cliche to say that paperwork was boring, but before his time off Mycroft had never really agree with them. he knew that there was power in the paperwork. It was in the crossing of the t's and the dotting of the i's that fates of countries hung. Now, sipping his afternoon tea in his office, the paperwork seams to him to be nothing more than smudges on the page. His chest aches, and not from the nursing which he'd stopped months back, but from the feeling that somewhere else there was something more important to do. That this, this running of a country, that he'd tried so hard to give his life too, was of no more importance than exercises in a child's copybook.

Then his eyes fall on a report of the continued interrogation of a criminal that he'd help to catch when he was thwarting a terrorist attack shortly after he had returned to work. The bomb had a wide range, that he'd already known. He figured by pure mathematics that his stopping the plan had meant a few thousand more people would live. But that was a rather impersonal number, and with the world population being what it was almost as much a cause for guilt as relief.

He just hadn't known exactly where the bomb was going to go off, and the answer was truly distressing. His daughter's school was in the blast radius, and she had been there that day. If they hadn't stopped the madman than his daughter would be dead right now. Mycroft does a quick calculation to see if his colleagues could have stopped the plot without him. Likely, but not guaranteed.

His work is important, and without it his family might be in danger. He looks down at the paperwork, remembering for the first time since he fell pregnant why his job was so important. The world needed running, and since most of the world was full of idiots it naturally fell to him to do the running. What was that old saying? If you want something done right, you should do it yourself?

The world needed someone as clever as him to run it, and since people as clever as him were rather rare he supposed that he would do the job.

-0-

"Come to the park with us," John insists holding Emma by the hand.

"I'm much too busy for that," Sherlock says not looking up from the paper.

"I know you haven't left the house for three days, and I don't think you've actually done any of that  schoolwork you promised your mother you'd do when she agreed to home school you."

"Please, I could do my a level's right now in my sleep."

"All right,  then schedule them, and graduate," John says with his hands on his hips.

"I'm on a case right now."

"You need sunlight, take an hour off," John says.

"Tomorrow," Sherlock says dismissively.

"Today, or I'm going to tell on you to your mother, and she'll make you go back to school with all those dreary people that you simply hate."

Sherlock sighs, "Fine!" he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes dragging himself up.

Emma grins at  him and offers him a hand.

"If I am going to hold hands with anyone it is going to be John," Sherlock says not taking it.

The little girl looks at him with a crushed expression, and John gives him a glare. Sherlock takes the hand.

"I'm starting to wonder if I was wise to  choose you as the person to have a baby with," John teases.

Sherlock's face falls just as dramatically as his sister's had just a few minutes before.

"It was a joke," John says apologetically, "I didn't  mean to actually hurt you."

"I'm not going to start liking the park just because you've given birth," Sherlock informs him.

"I know that," John says with a chuckle, "I don't want you to change completely. Honestly, I'm just a little bit worried about you ever since you stopped going to school. You are hyper focused right now. You lack balance."

"And if I always do?" Sherlock asks.

"I'm sorry you thought I wanted to change you," John says, "I'll try to make sure you're not confused about that anymore. After all, I like you exactly as you are."

"Yeah!" Emma explains pulling her hand away from Sherlock's fiercely, "Don't hold my hand!"

Sherlock chuckles, "I don't mind," he pulls out his hand for her again.

" No!" she insists pulling her hands close to her.

"Besides, this baby is going to be half you, after all, so I'm going to need you to parent it! No one is going to understand our baby like you will."

"Our child is going to be holey unique, and we're going to let it be whatever it wants to be," Sherlock corrects, "We're not going to let it be born with all sorts of expectations. The world already has one of me. It couldn't very well take another one. We're going to get a unique child, and that is exactly what we need."

"Oh, you're going to be a fabulous father," John says with enthusiasm.

-0-

"You coming to bed?" Greg whispers to Mycroft over Madi's sleeping form.

"Not tonight," Mycroft says.

"Not tonight, or last night, or the day before," Greg corrects, "If I did something to make you mad you could just tell me. Or tell me to sleep on the couch. There is no reason for you to have to share a bed with a little kid."

"I'm not mad at you, Greg," Mycroft whispers back. 

Greg just stands there expecting more conversation. Mycroft sighs, and untangles himself from the child. There is no way Greg is going to let this go, and if they have the whole discussion  here they are bound to wake up the child.

"Come on then, let's have a  cuppa with this conversation," Mycroft says leading the other man to the kitchen. Mycroft puts the kettle to boil, and Greg starts on the cups. Mycroft is disappointed that half of the delay he counted on is gone.

"There was a foiled incident at work the other day," Mycroft begins.

"Incident?" Greg asks.

"I can't go into details, but we...prevented something. Maddy's school would have been involved if we hadn't."

"My God," Greg says, "I assume she's not in danger if she continues to go there?"

"No, it definitely wasn't an issue with the school's security. It had a lot more to do with national security."

"I'm glad you saved her...all of them," Greg says gravely.

"It's hard for me to be back in it. I was colder before. I could balance the lives of thousands of people like an algebra problem. There were neat little sums to me. It's safer that way really. The sums always come out. Now I'm just like all the rest of them, completely corrupted by my heart."

Greg leans forward and kisses him, "Oh you fool. That's not corruption. Having a heart is the most valuable thing ever. It makes you more valuable."

Mycroft's shoulder's sag, "It hurt."

"I've seen how hard work has been since you went back," Greg says, "Maybe we should talk about whether you want to keep working."

"Right, because a proper omega stays home, and takes care of his family," Mycroft says with annoyance.

"You know I don't believe that, and you're not an omega, so that wouldn't apply to you if I did," Greg says.

"I know I'm not being fair," Mycroft sighs, "It was so simple before. I thought the people who wanted people to sit home after they'd had kids were oppressive, but I feel the pull now."

"I see you being  pulled apart , and I don't know how to help," Greg says mournfully.

"You do help. I'm lucky. I know a lot of people whose mates don't do a lick of  childcare or anything around  the house . You do your fair share, perhaps even a bit more than your fair share."

"Of course I do, and anyone who doesn't isn't worth his salt."

"I'll find my groove again," Mycroft says.

"And I think you'll do better with a bit of sleep in a proper bed," Greg says flipping the kettle off.

Mycroft flicks it back on, "You wouldn't mind, would you? If we had our cuppa. We've had less time together ever since I went back to work. We could do with a bit of conversation."

"To start with," Greg says, "But we should find some time for a proper dinner, soon don't you think."

Mycroft grins, "I have missed our dates.  It has been months. Don't get me wrong, living with you is way better than dating you."

"But we can have both," Greg says touching his arm, "We've put a lot of things off since just before the babies were born."

Mycroft suddenly pulls away going pale.

"What?" Greg says concerned.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said yes about the dating. I didn't know what it stood for," Mycroft says.

"Stood for?" Greg says looking confused. Then it suddenly clicks, "Mycroft, I wasn't talking about sex."

"But we haven't...not since months before the babies were born," Mycroft says.

"Oh love," Greg says walking over and tilting his head up, "That's okay with me. I need to spend time with you, I don't need to have you in a physical way."

"It doesn't feel the same," Mycroft says looking away again. When Greg doesn't say anything, Mycroft continues, "I touched myself the other day, and I didn't like it."

"Maybe you need to see a doctor," Greg says.

"I did. She said that it's normal, and I should do kegals, and it will be better. But you've already waited so long."

"You pushed two babies out of yourself, even though it went against your gender. We'll go back to being physical when you are good and ready for it," Greg declares.

Mycroft pulls Greg toward him, and plants an intense kiss on him. 

"Finish your tea, and we'll have a right proper snuggle," Greg promises giving him another quick peck on his lips.

-0-

"Why do I have to come?" Sherlock whines. "You should be able to handle four kids by yourself. You plan on having twelve kids."

"I have taken care of more than four kids before. The reason I want you to come  along and babysit is because you don't have experience with multiple children."

Sherlock narrows his eyes, "You're having twins?"

" No but taking care of two babies for a couple of hours is way easier than taking care of one baby forever. Come on, please, can you do this for me?"

"You don't think I can do it?" Sherlock says.

"I am sure you are going to be a fabulous parent, but I'm also really sure that you have to learn some basics about taking care of the baby, and I would much rather you experiment on your brother's kids."

Sherlock narrows his eyes at him, "I know that you are manipulating me, but it's working. Why do they need us to babysit anyway?"

"They are going on a date."

"Ew, why would they want to do that?" Sherlock says.

"Because they are in love," John says slowly as if Sherlock was particularly dense.

"We've never gone on a date," Sherlock says.

" Sure, we have. We literally spent all day together," John says.

"We spend time together, but that's not the same as a date. You deserve to be dated," Sherlock says mournfully.

John considers, "I really don't think I want to be dated. Your mom makes better food than any restaurant I've ever been too. I wouldn't' want to go to a movie with you, because you would disturb all the other people. Honestly, studying in bed next to you while you search through newspapers for clues is my favorite activity. I like it better than dating." Sherlock's face looks confused, "But if you are interested in  dating, we should try it."

"I do know a place that cooks better than my mom, but maybe," he pauses, "Maybe you would get bored if we went out to eat."

"We will schedule a date, Sherlock," John assures him, "But first we've got to get going, or we're going to delay your brother's date."

-0- 

"What do you do when the babies won't stop crying?" Sherlock says holding his nephew  up and bouncing him up and down.

"Well, we fed him a half an hour ago, and you're holding him, so my guess is diapers."

"Explain to me why these children can't use the restroom. They have all the muscles that we do."

"I think it's mainly a communication and locomotion issue. They can't go to the restroom themselves, and they don't really have a way to tell us that they want to go to the bathroom."

"They cry when their diapers are wet. Why can't they cry before they wet them?"

John sighs, "You are not going to try to change the way that babies have been raised for generations in order to avoid changing a diaper."

"We could hire a nanny to change the diapers," Sherlock points out.

"Well, right now you are the nanny, so buck up, and change the diaper."

Sherlock obeys.

"Good job," John says grinning at him as if he just accomplished the most amazing thing in the world.

"That wasn't as terrible as I thought it was going to be, but we could still get a nanny," Sherlock points out.

"We're both going to be staying home, Sherlock, we're going to be able to handle one baby."

Just then the baby starts to cry in Sherlock's arms, "I don't think we can," Sherlock says.

"Babies sense emotions, you smell like panic," John says moving over with the baby in his arms. This causes the baby that John is holding to begin to fuss as well, but John's calm scent does cause Sherlock to calm down, and a few breaths later both of the babies are silent.

"All babies are interested in is whether or not they are safe, and fed. If an adult around them is in a state of panic they assume that panic is the way to go, but if all the humans around them are relaxed they'll assume that they should be too," John explains.

" So, I have to be calm for the next forty years?" Sherlock exclaims causing the hint of panic in his scent to return, and for  both of the babies to become restless.

"No, John says, "They get more independent of your scent cues the older that you get. By the time that they enter elementary school they are going to care a lot more about what is going on in their little circle of friends than they will about whatever emotions their parents might be experiencing."

"I'm not going to be able to be calm all the time," Sherlock admits.

"Okay, well then sometimes you'll take a break from the babes, right? They'll still have me, and I'm sure your mother would help if we both needed a break. or you can just be upset or nervous around the babies. If they fuss a little it won't hurt them any."

"Won't I. .. permanently damage them? Make them terrified all the time?" Sherlock asks nervously.

"Well, honestly, you probably shouldn't let them live in a constant state of fear, but they might as well learn young that the world is not all roses, and sunshine. There are times when people have bad days, and big emotions. I think it's healthy for kids to see parents who have emotions, and deal with them in healthy ways.

Sherlock nods his head, and John leans forward to put his head against the other man's.


	19. Chapter 19

John almost laughs when Sherlock holds the door open for him, but he remembers just in time that he is on a date, and this is what trying looks like when your name is Sherlock Holmes.

"Thank you," he says seriously.

Sherlock of course, being Sherlock, doesn't miss the fact that John found his attempt at chivalry just one step above funny, and he makes sure not to make a similar mistake with what is left of the night. After all, John is no typical omega by any stretch of the imagination. 

" So, what is your favorite color?" Sherlock asks.

John stares at him for a long moment desperately trying not to react incorrectly but failing miserably.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock says, "Was I supposed to ask your favorite something else? Nobel peace  prize winner."

"Sherlock, you aren't supposed to ask me anything. What's going on?"

"I did some research," Sherlock admits.

"On how to act on a date?" John asks.

"Yes, I wanted to make sure that I knew how I should act on a first date."

"Well, there is your problem, Sherlock. We're not really on our first date. We're mated for goodness sake. We've known each other for almost a year, and we are family. First date questions aren't really going to work here."

"Well, then what is?" Sherlock asks nervously.

"Just talk to me, Sherlock," John says, "Like you always do. Like you did this morning over breakfast."

Sherlock nods his head, "You've started reading the box car children, haven't you?" he asks.

"Yes," John says, "I tried to get Emma to listen so I could pretend that I was reading them to her, but she's a bit young for them yet. Not as young for them as I am too old for them of course."

"They are good practice. You've advanced quite a bit, in your ability to read. I'm rather proud of you."

"Please, I'm about to be an adult, and a father, and I'm reading books meant for children."

"But you couldn't read at all not that long ago, you've really come an impressive distance," Sherlock says earnestly.

"Well, my math skills are quite poor. I'm afraid you're going to have to hold the purse strings when we move out."

"When we move out?" Sherlock says with alarm.

" Oh, I wasn't talking right away," John says reaching over to calm him. "I don't think we should try to go without your parent's help quite yet, but we're probably not going to want their help years down the road when both of us are done with our education, and we have jobs and half a dozen children."

"Well, by then you'll be able to master numbers. After all, working with money  just involves adding and subtraction, and you've  mastered that even if you haven't moved much beyond that," Sherlock says.

"I'm still glad that I'm doing this with you. I'm scared to be a parent of course, wondering if I'm ready, but I'd be bloody terrified if you weren't doing this with me. I figure if I'm not able to help the little one with his homework  later you probably will be able to."

"I think I've deleted a great deal of my formal schooling," Sherlock disagrees, "We might have to hire a tutor."

"You've been able to help me, so you'll at least be able to get them through elementary school," John says with a smile.

"Anyway, you're going to be the one to teach our children the most important things," Sherlock says, "How to deal with other people. You'll  oversee teaching them kindness and all of the other things that go into making them a good person."

"Oh, I don't know," John says pondering, "There are a lot of things that I want our kids to get from you as well. I hope they don't care what other people think of them anymore than you do, and I hope they are smart, and emotionally strong, and the sort of people who decide to rescue strangers from omega houses."

"I was bored," Sherlock says a bit embarrassed by  all the praise.

"You were my hero, and you really don't have to worry about how this date goes, because you've already given me the best date ever. Rescuing me out of that, absolutely tops.”

The waiter arrives just then to take their order.

-0-

John is surprised when Sherlock doesn't give their home address to the cabby when they leave the restaurant later that night. He more than half expects the cab to pull up in front of some crime scene. When they stop before a building with a huge telescope out the front of it John begins to become alarmed that they are going to be the ones committing the crime.

"Sherlock, what are we doing here?"

"I thought stargazing was a normal activity to do on dates," Sherlock says.

"It is, but not like this! Are we even supposed to be here? Whose is this?"

"It's a research organization," Sherlock explains, "I corrected a few of their published papers, and saved them from an error which would have resulted in the wasting of a great deal of grant money. They were so grateful they granted me a key to come and go as I pleased. I've only used it twice before."

"My mad genius," John says kissing him, and walking toward the house, "Of course my education hasn't gotten as far as the sciences, so you're going to have to explain it all to me."

"You want me to explain starts to you?" Sherlock asks in disbelief.

John nods. 

"All right, there are all these pretty lights in the sky. They are caused by chemical reactions."

"I know that," John says with a laugh.

"I don't know much more about stars than you do. It's not terribly useful in the solving of crimes you know," Sherlock says.

"All right,  then we'll just enjoy all the pretty lights together," John says taking his hand as they walk into the building.

"Is this good enough?" Sherlock asks nervously.

"It was fantastic," John says looking at him surprised by his worry, "Why are you asking?"

"I'm just not sure," Sherlock says uncertainly..."I wanted tonight .... well , I know it's just the beginning, but I wanted to make  it, so you didn't regret being with me."

"What would ever make you think I would regret being with you?" John asks. "If I ever did something to give you that  impression, I am  sorry , because you know I don't. I'm as glad to be with you as I could be," John says leaning forward.

"I should have sex with you more often," Sherlock says.

"I wouldn't want it all the time, Sherlock. Honestly. I enjoyed what we did on our honeymoon, and I would be open to it if that was something you were interested in doing again, but I'm  not sitting around wishing for it to happen. I'm happy with the life we've built together. I don't want anything more, besides," John says putting his hand on his expanding stomach, "For this little one, and a few of his siblings to join us in this life. I enjoyed this date tonight, I really did, but if it's going to make you think I want some version of you that doesn't exist I don't think we should ever date again. If I'm given a straight up choice between lying next to you in bed while we each read our own things, and a night out on the town, I choose the bed. I just liked this, because it was a change."

Sherlock smiles, "Okay good. I like what we have too, but I know you could go out there, and get something better, and I wanted to do something to prevent that."

"Oy!" John says giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "You really must get it out of your head that I am going to cheat on you. I really am not, you know."

Sherlock pauses upon walking into the observatory, "I have no idea how to use any of this."

John chuckles, "I think this might be one of those 'it's the thought that counts' things, don't you?"

-0-

Mycroft rushes into the building as if it were on fire. He enters the office, "Madi," he shakes his head remembering how many students are at the school, and tries her full name instead, "Madison Gladwell!"

"I'm here, Mycroft," she says coming out of a nearby room.

"Are you a relative?" the secretary asks staring at the papers in front of her.

Mycroft briefly considers lying, but it feels like the sort of question that she wouldn't ask if she didn't already know the answer too. "I'm the roommate of her uncle, but we live in the same house, and I take care of her."

"He's basically my dad, he helps me with my homework, and takes me to the park," Madi offers.

"I'm sorry, but we can't release a child to the custody of someone who is not a relative."

"Look, she's sick, and I was put down as her guardian when we enrolled her at the school."

"I'm sorry, those are the rules," the woman repeats with a shrug.

"How about this. If I can get one of her mothers on the phone, and she tells you that it's all right will that work?" Mycroft asks.

"I have no way of knowing that is who you are calling."

Mycroft sighs, "You've got her mum's number in the phone, right? What if I showed  you, I was dialing the same number?"

The woman nods, and Mycroft quickly dials the number on his phone. He puts the phone on speaker, "Diana, I'm at Madi's school, and I've got you on speaker. She's sick, and they are not letting me take her home, because I'm not a blood relative."

" Oh of all the ridiculous things!" Diana exclaims, "I authorize you to let him take her, and really treat him as if he is her parent, because he really is."

"Thank you," Mycroft says hanging up the phone, "We're good?" he asks the secretary.

"You can take her," she says glaring at him, "But I hope you've thought about the effect this unusual way of raising children is going to have on the little mite. Taking her away from her natural born parents to have her raised by strangers! Why..."

"He's not a stranger! And I asked him to take me," Madi says. "I'm asking again, Mycroft, take me away from here." He scoops her  up and carries her against his shoulder even though she's really getting a bit too big for such things.

"I've got you, Madi girl," he says soothingly. "Don't you worry."

-0-

"How are you doing?" Greg asks Madi kneeling next to the couch where she is laying as soon as he comes home from work for the day. "Fine," she mutters. "I felt better after Mycroft made me some soup and crackers."

"Good."

"The mean secretary doesn't think you guys are my parents."

"Well, she's wrong," Greg says soothing her hair down.

"I don't want to go back to school there," Madi declares.

"Oh honey, you hardly ever have to deal with the secretary. You're going to be just fine."

Madi pouts, and Greg notices Mycroft's face over his shoulder. He walks into the kitchen, and the other man follows him. 

"Maybe she shouldn't go back to that school," Mycroft says.

"How bad was that confrontation?" Greg asks beginning to get alarmed.

"It wasn't all that bad, but it isn't going to be the only one that we have in her lifetime. I don't like to see her having to put up with things like this just because  she's our kid."

"So, what? You want to give our daughter back? After a year?" Greg can barely keep his angry voice quiet enough that Maddy is not going to overhear them.

"No," Mycroft whispers, "I'm saying, maybe we should move. Reinvent our family a bit. Go back to pretending they are all our biological kids. You know that it wouldn't be too hard to fake papers in my line of work."

" So, what are we talking about Mycroft? You pretending to be someone that you are not for the rest of your life? You are living one life at work, and the other life at home?"

"I could go back to living as an omega," Mycroft says, "If it would make her more comfortable."

"Oh love, how could you possibly imagine that anyone who loved you would want you to do that for them? Even if she said yes now, when she was older, and she understood it she would regret it. She's fine. Remember, she chooses this, and if she wants, she can  unchoose it too."

"But she won't," a little voice says causing  both men to turn and look at her.

"You really have to stop eavesdropping," Mycroft scolds her lightly.

"Mycroft, please don't pretend to be an omega," she says with despair in her voice.

"It breaks my heart that that woman was mean to you today, and it's going to happen more often honey. I could make  it so people don't say things like that to you anymore."

"Stupid people are always going to say stupid things. It would be so sad if we based our lives off their opinions," Madi says seriously. "And... if you can't live like a beta when you are one...what does that mean for me?" she asks.

For a moment Mycroft feels as if  all of the breath has been knocked out of his lungs. He is well aware how hard the path he thinks she is preparing to walk is. He kneels down before her, and says, "Madi, honey, are you telling me that you are trans?"

"No..." she says looking scared, "That's why I'm so scared. I feel like an omega, but I don't want to do everything that omegas are supposed to do. If you must live like an omega there is no hope for me, and I might as well put on the apron and get baking right now."

"No, Madi, you are going to live the life you want, now and in the future. You're right, I owe it to the next generation to try to live as bravely as is safe for me, and that would be true even if you didn't need it. There are plenty of kids who do: trans kids, and gender non-conforming kids, and kids like you who just want to be you, and your gender at the same time, and not have people tell you that your gender is so all encompassing that it tells you exactly what you can do and can’t do."

"What can I do to make it easier? Is there something I should have said to that awful woman?"

"No honey, she didn't bother me. I've dealt with people who are way worse than her. The only reason this one bothered me so much was because you were there. I was foolish enough to think that you would be able to get through your whole life without ever having to experience things like that."

Madi wraps her arms around him, and squeezes, "I'm fine. I love you, and know you are right."

"Thank you, Madi love," Mycroft says kissing her on her hairline.

"Another thing you didn't consider with your hairbrained scheme," Greg says, "I might have been willing to live as an alpha for a few months to help ensure that my babies entered the world as easy as possible, but I would not want to live the rest of my life like that."


	20. Chapter 20

John had assumed that he'd want Sherlock close to him when he went into labor, after all omegas tend to be quite clingy when they go into labor, but he didn't want Sherlock anywhere near him. Sherlock had only been around his private parts one time, and John didn't exactly want this to be his second exposure. He wasn't going to be at his best for the next few hours.

He stands up, and he starts to feel his hips give out on him. He shoots them a glare, and they obey him, bearing up under his weight, and he tries to pretend that he  had an effect on making them work. He walks down the hall to the bathroom, decides against locking the door knowing that his legs are probably not going to last a whole lot longer. He strips down, and lays down in the bathtub, and pulls a towel over him.

He rubs his hand over his tight  stomach and prepares his watch and notebook to begin timing.

-0-

"John?" Sherlock says reaching out with one of his hands to grope around for him. Every day for the last several months he's woken up with John pushed up against his side. When he can't find him, he opens his eyes. John isn't in the room, but Sherlock is not concerned, John has been hungry ever since he became pregnant. When Sherlock makes his way down to the kitchen, and still doesn't see his mate panic hits his heart.

"Have you seen John this morning?" Sherlock asks his mother.

"No dear, I assumed he was still asleep."

"He was gone when I woke up," Sherlock says, "We are less than a week away from his due date. Why would he go somewhere without one of us?"

"Calm down dear," his mother says, "Call him on the phone. I'm sure that everything is fine."

Sherlock grabs his phone, and dials, but the phone rings out.

"All right dear, we're going to stay calm. I am going to start searching each room on this floor, and you are going to start on the second floor."

"What if he's not in the house?" Sherlock asks.

"I'll call Mycroft, and we’ll find him.

-0-

The bathroom door is closed, but Sherlock  can twist the handle of the door. "Who is in there?" he asks not wanting to see a family member who is legitimately using the restroom.

"Occupied," John says trying to keep his voice even and calm.

"John! Thank God! I didn't know where you were, and I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"I'm just fine," John assures him.

"You're not in labor then?" Sherlock asks.

John wants to tell a lie, but a contraction comes just then, and while John waits for it to be over Sherlock bursts into the room.

"John!" he exclaims in horror when he sees the boy in the tub. "Come on, I'll help get you someplace a lot more comfortable. Have your hips given out on you yet?"

"Sherlock, I don't want you here. Please can you let me do this?" John asks turning his face away.

"You're in labor! I've got to help you! Or get you help. If you're embarrassed to have me with  you, I could get my mother to be with you, or even take to you to the hospital. you know that is getting more, and more popular all the time."

"Sherlock, I've been in labor for hours, and I haven't needed anyone yet, please just leave me," John says.

Sherlock shakes his head. He takes out his phone to  dial his mother quickly. Then he goes to the cupboard and picks up some towels. 

"If this is where our baby is going to be born than I am going to be here too. Our baby is not going to slide out onto cold tile. He deserves a softer, fluffier landing don't you think?" Sherlock says holding up the towels.

"Yes," John agrees turning his head away as another contraction wracks his body.

"Those were  close, together weren't they?" Sherlock says with concern.

"Yeah, they are about three minutes apart," John says.

"So that's active labor!" Sherlock says, "You could have had this baby alone."

"I would have been fine if I had it on my own," John says, "But since you are here."

He holds out his hands, and for a second Sherlock doesn't understand what he is asking for, and then it dawns on him, he's reaching for a scenting. Sherlock drops down to his knees, and suspends himself over John without touching him, offering his neck.

John takes a long scent of him. "Thank you, now give me room," John says pushing him away.

Sherlock chuckles, knowing that most omegas want to be touched, and held the entire time that they are in labor, but he wouldn't expect something like that from John.

"Okay, now look, and tell me if you can see his head," John says.

Mrs. Holmes enters the room then. "Sorry it took me so long. I was gathering supplies," she says with a huff that clearly says she was running. She holds up a basket containing everything from some scissors to clothing.

"Yeah! I see it. It's right here!" Sherlock exclaims.

"Okay, I'm going to push on the next contraction, right? Can you get the towel down there."

Mrs. Holmes starts to hand Sherlock one out of her basket, but Sherlock takes the one he's already holding, and puts it between John's legs. He puts his hand on John's  knee and looks at John for permission before moving the disjointed leg farther apart from the other to allow greater room for the baby. Then Sherlock puts his hand on John's stomach, and says, "Gently baby. Slow, and easy, the world is going to be waiting for you no matter how long you take to get here."

John  chuckles and tries to relax knowing this will be the last real break that he is going to get for a while, but his muscles refuse  to relax or release, instead staying tense and at attention.

Then the contraction comes, and John's muscles do what they've wanted to do for a while, and the head of his baby slides into the world.

"It didn't work!" Sherlock says in alarm. "He didn't come all the way out."

John chuckles, "Sherlock, I'll push again on the next contraction. This is how it is supposed to go."

"And you'd better calm down. I don't want the first thing that my grand baby smells when he enters the world to be panic," Mrs. Holmes says calmly.

"Saying I should calm down doesn't make it instantly happen," Sherlock says with annoyance edged in his voice.

"I know love," Mrs. Holmes says, "Just take a couple of deep breaths, and smile for me, okay?"

"I'll smile when he's safe," Sherlock insists. 

"Oh love, your baby is just about out in the world. It's not going to be safe for a really long time, an nothing that is alive is ever really safe," Mrs. Holmes says.

"I hope you are ready!" John exclaims as another contraction hits his body, and he bears down. It's a few seconds before the  baby's shoulder's wiggle free, and Sherlock holds the towel up as soon as he enters the world. The baby screams fiercely.

"Shh!" Sherlock says, "How can you be so angry already? come on, you've just entered the world, you can't have that many complains yet." Sherlock says wrapping the towel around the baby. He starts to pull the baby toward him, instinctively longing for a scenting.

"No, the  omega gets to scent first!" John says speaking so roughly that the baby starts to cry louder again.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock says. John had been acting so much the opposite of what a typical omega acts like that Sherlock had forgotten to treat him like an omega at all. He hands the baby over now, and John holds him close to his neck. The baby stops crying as soon as he catches the man's scent.

"That's right, momma is here," John coos. Then he tilts his nose down so that he can scent the baby. Tears start to flow from his eyes, and Sherlock is alarmed that all of the hormones that he's not been showing during the rest of the labor are coming out now.

"He's ours," John says looking up at Sherlock with intensity in his eyes.

"I know," Sherlock says.

"We made something perfect," John says holding the baby closer to him.

Sherlock knows better than to take the baby from him, but John nods his head, "Go ahead, I want to share the first scenting. He needs to be close to both of us."

Sherlock takes the baby slowly, and gently from his arms. He pulls the baby toward his neck, and the baby's nose twitches as it takes in it's parent scent. It's less familiar with the alpha musk not having it surround him for the entire time that he was growing up, but it is still able to accept the scent as family, having smelt it whenever Sherlock scented John's womb. Sherlock starts the slow movement to hand the baby back to John.

"First scentings work both ways," John reminds him.

Sherlock puts his nose down, and lightly touches the  baby's head with his nose, and he feels powerful love rushing through his veins. His mother puts a hand on his shoulder, and Sherlock growls at her before he can even stop himself.

"Dear, the baby needs to be washed, and if you really object to me doing it so  much, you're going to have to do it yourself," she says.

"John can do it," Sherlock says, he doesn't trust himself to do it himself, but right now he and john are the only people that he wants near the baby.

"The afterbirth is coming," John says flinching, "It's going to have to wait if I'm to do it."

Mrs. Holmes hands a washcloth to her  son and nudges him a bit out of the way so that she can get close enough to help John.

Sherlock moves to place the baby in the towel on the floor. He begins crying once again, but Sherlock moves his wrist near the baby's nose to calm him as he  wipes him clean rinsing the rag off as it becomes covered with human fluid.

"I can wash him now," John says reaching toward Sherlock.

"No, I'm getting him," Sherlock says fascinated by this, "This is...not what I expected  childcare to be like. It's...different when it's your child. I feel like I already know him."

"Well hurry up with his bath dear, or he's going to catch cold," Mrs. Holmes says.

Sherlock looks at her with horror, but it only lasts for a second, before he goes back to the washing, but with a lot more speed. He picks his son up, and wraps him in a fresh towel, and hands it to John.

"You ready to cut the umbilical cord?" John asks.

"Is it going to hurt him?" Sherlock asks with concern.

"No, there are no nerves," John says smiling at him. Mrs. Holmes hands the scissors to him, and Sherlock quickly does the deed carefully tying it to make sure his belly button is going to be as symmetrical as possible.

"Okay, the idea to have the baby in a  bathtub seemed so good a few hours ago," John says with a chuckle.

"Right, should I carry you out?" Sherlock asks.

"I think my legs are ready to go back in the sockets," John says handing the baby to his mother-in-law. The angle is all wrong, and after a bit of fumbling Sherlock climbs into the tub carefully putting his long legs around John's. John yells a bit with the sharp pain as the legs go back into joint, and this distresses his little boy who wails in sympathy.

"William, it's okay. I'm not hurt! Not really!" John exclaims.

Sherlock blinks at John in surprise.

"What? It's traditional to name the first baby after his alpha sire, isn't it? I figured it was more or less expected in a family like this," John defends the name choice.

"You don't have to name our son that if you'd rather name him something else," Sherlock tells him, "Besides, I didn't even know that you knew what my first name was."

John smiles, "I spend all day at home with your mother. If you don't think that you are a topic of conversation at least some of the time you're crazy. I've seen all of your baby pictures. Twice. Bit of don't like his name we can chance it."

"I love it," Sherlock says with a smile, "And I'm glad he's not an alpha. I feel like fertiles are so much more complicated, and it's nice to start off with a nice simple beta."

"No child is simple," John says, "And I would have been happy with any gender. After all I feel like we'll have a wide range of experience with just about all of them by the time we are done with our parenting experience. Now, help me  up, would you?" he asks.

John's legs are shaky and after Sherlock watches him struggle a bit to take a few steps out of the tub, and across the bathroom  Sherlock picks him up, and carries him back to the bed that they have shared for months now. As he lays his mate down in the bed everything in Sherlock wants to lay down with him, but he resists, thinking that it's not what John wants. He reminds himself that he is more than just instincts, and that he shouldn't even want to be near his omega as badly as he does.

"Come on," John says, and Sherlock slides into the bed next to him, carefully scenting him without touching him. John smells new, and Sherlock ought to hate it. He was so sure that the way John used to smell was perfect. But he had felt the same thing before John had fallen pregnant. Every time John's smell change Sherlock found that he liked the new smell just as much as he had liked the smell that he'd had before.

"Well, if there is going to be some of that I feel like you're missing someone," his mother says handing the baby to John. John holds the baby between the two of them, and he's scented from the front, and the back.

"He's not calming down from this as he did when we did it the first time. Is he already used to us?" Sherlock asks John looking over the back of their baby's head.

"I think he might be hungry," John says bashfully, "I can understand if you want to leave while I do this."

"Nonsense. It's the most natural thing in the world, and anyone who is offended just because someone is breastfeeding is a coward," Sherlock says.

William refuses to latch on at first, and Sherlock moves closer to the two of them to see if he could identify the problem. As soon as he is within scent range of his son the baby begins to drink. "Don't you get used to this," Sherlock warns, "You're going to eat quite a few times in the next year, and I can't be expected to be this close for all of them. You're lucky enough that you'll have one parent that close."

John  chuckles but reaches over the baby to pull Sherlock closer to himself, "It's just a new baby thing," John says, "He's not going to be dependent on you forever."

"Don't be daft," Sherlock says putting his face on John's shoulder, "Of course he's going to need us forever, and we've got you little one. We've got you." 


End file.
